A Dark Dawn
by Ave Imperium
Summary: A new race was discovered and annihilated. A century passed and Citadel space forgot, but Humanity never did.
1. Prologue

Inspired by 'The Blood of our Children' -Necronicus

_Early chapters are currently under revision. Update speed may be affected__  
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**A Dark Dawn**

"My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!" ― _William Goldman, The Princess Bride_

"We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged" ― _Heinrich Heine_

* * *

Humanity, a race of bipedal mammalian humanoids was discovered in their year 2055 AD by a joint Asari and Salarian exploration vessel when it accidentally activated the Sol Mass Relay and arrived in their system. They quickly established contact, eager to include a new race into the ever-growing Citadel Space community.

Humanities apparent hostility surprised them, despite their non-violent and friendly approach. They left the system quickly, disheartened and discouraged. VI programs on their ship forwarded data acquired in the Human Internet to the Council.

Upon returning to the Citadel, they discovered a new diplomatic fleet being readied for further communications with the new race. Despite their vehement disagreement, they were disregarded and the fleet went on its way, accompanied by a small Turian armada, the only precaution that the explorers were able to insist upon.

The Turian councilor secretly agreed with them, worried about the implications of massive nuclear weapon stocking -discovered through the internet- and the not so ancient wars that tore across the races world. He secretly ordered his commanding General, General Vakarin to do whatever it took to keep the Diplomats safe. To him, these Humans were to close to the Turian border and reminded him too much of Krogans.

The fleet arrived shortly after at the specified system and quickly tried to re-engage discussions with Earth's various world leaders. They seemed to be making headway despite humanities caution and suspicion.

All was well, until the humans detected the approaching Turian fleet, two days after the Diplomats landing. Suddenly world leaders were not so willing to speak and diplomatic avenues of approach were quickly clogged up with stubborn human paranoia.

Humanity repeatedly voiced its disinterest in being ruled by a greater power and riots began to break out across the planet in an attempt to force the aliens off their home world.

Disturbed by the violent reactions, the diplomats pushed on nevertheless. They were well aware of the threat these humans could pose. They were tough, resilient and ruthless said the analysists. But the diplomats believed in change.

For three years they tried to convince the humans to join them. They attempted to turn them from their violent ways and towards a more enlightened path, but were met with stubborn refusal.

Tension was running high. The diplomats were no longer left unguarded and the Turians hardly trusted the human military to give them sufficient protection. They were now escorted by fully armed Hierarchy soldiers.

The tenuous peace between the Council and Human shattered in July 2061 when a group of extremist humans suicide bombed the diplomats convoy heading towards the UN building. They destroyed two vehicles, killed three prominent matriarchs and six guards.

The remaining Turians gunned down innocent civilians in the surroundings, assuming them to be part of the ploy. The encounter left humanity with twenty three members less.

It was the spark to light a forest fire.

In a matter of hours, hundreds of humans, armed and ready, attacked the Turian base near New York. The diplomats were evacuated and the poorly armed humans pushed back with heavy casualties, numbering in the hundreds of dead.

The United-States and Russia counter attacked with exemplary coordination. In later days, the Council strategists would assume they had created a contingency plan long before the outbreak of hostilities. They launched dozens of Nuclear missiles against the Turian fleet, demolishing three frigates, a cruiser and leaving three more vessels damaged.

General Vakarin pulled back and called in for a Pacification fleet. It was promptly sent out without any council objections. Both Asari and Salarian had been killed in the bombing, now known as the Brush Fire bombing. Or more familiarly, the Spark.

The Turians swooped in expecting an easy victory against a multi government planet. They were quickly disillusioned as Humanity allied itself with astounding speed against the outside enemy. Turian air supremacy was absolute and they dominated the human military on the open fields, but they met their match in Urban environments. It was a terrain for which many Turians had trained less. They were unused to Human cities and in unknown territory, facing an enemy determined to fight to the last man and not live on its knees.

The Turians learned to watch out in every room for a man lurking in the shadows, to check every surface for a trap. What was expected to be a quick and easy conquest dragged on for two years as the humans fought for every inch of ground, every city block. Had the Turians known of Stalingrad they probably would have reevaluated their strategy.

General Vakarin, frustrated by the lack of progress allowed his ships to commence orbital bombardment, using the Humans previous Nuke use as an excuse. However, he was forced to approach the planet to execute his plan and contrary to what the fleet had been told, many nuclear Silos and Submarines still survived, especially in Chinese and Russian territory, a much vaster land where progress had been exceptionally slow.

The fleet lost a dozen ships to nuclear strikes. To add to his fury, the General began receiving reports of humans using scavenged Mass Accelerator weapons and even researching space travel by reverse engineering.

Predictions were made and reports brought in. After extensive study, the strategists decided it would take more than a hundred thousand Turian lives and a dozen years to conquer the Humans. But much less to exterminate.

General Vakarin, unwilling to sacrifice more Turian lives, redirected a solidified ceaserium and platinum meteorite onto earth. The planet was covered in a cloud of radioactive ash and it rained liquified caesarium for weeks. Most cities were demolished and the population annihilated.

Throughout the fighting, the Turians lost over ten thousand soldiers, a hundred or more asari commando's to the surprisingly skilled Russian, Americain, Israeli, (etc...) special forces and a dozen salarians.

But the political backlash was more brutal than predicted. The Council was furious at the use of such a dangerous meteorite on the garden world and was loath to reveal it to the public. Criticism leveled at the Hierarchy was mostly centered around General Vakarin and his lack of control. He was executed and his family dishonored.

The Turian councilor held his position by the skin of his teeth and faced severe reprimands for not investigating further into his generals actions.

The council decided to hide the whole fiasco and created a bogus report to account for all the losses and the movement of so many troops.

Soon, the Relay was given a constant patrol of Turian vessels. and the Council claimed the whole of Sol system to be unstable.

A hundred years passed and most soldiers died. Only the Asari lived on and they knew to hold their tongues. The commanders and council members forgot the warnings of their predecessors.

Fifty more years and the system was only remembered as an unsafe place to go, guarded by a fleet to stop anybody from entering it.

Or leaving.

* * *

The once proud city of New York lay in ruins. Smoke rise from the shattered spires of surviving skyscrapers, few in number. Flames erupted from gutted houses in great red gouts. A stark contrast to the greyness of the air as ash fell from the skies.

Worse yet, a dark rain fell from the sky, burning away any remaining life where once millions of people thronged the streets.

Black clouds swirled above and a demonic wind howled through the empty streets, filled with corpses and bones. A lone bird tried to escape the rain, flapping weakly through the unstoppable wind. It cried out, breaking the deathly silence before succumbing to the rain and falling to it's death.

It hit the ground with a dull thud. The sound was echoed soon enough as a pile of rubble shifted. A few pebbles tumbled to the ground and the sound of ragged breathing could be heard from beneath the mound. Nobody came to the persons aid, for no one remained to help.

Finally, the rocks fell away and revealed the torn and broken shape of a United States Marine. His body armor was streaked black from the deadly rain and terrible burns covered his face in a lattice of scars.

He crawled out of his hiding spot, eyes wild and feral. High, high above him three spots of light began to grow ever smaller. As if by some magical intuition the Marine raised his head to the sky and screamed. He screamed his hate and pain into that final breath and fell to the ground. His hand smacked limply against the birds corpse.

And in the sky a black rain fell.


	2. Second blood

**Chapter 1: Second Blood**

_AU:_

_Woah, I didn't expect so many reviews or follows. Thanks for reading and hopefully you'll enjoy the story all the way through._

_To appease the worries of some, despite what you may think, this is neither a council basher nor a story where humanity is overpowered. Unconventional and unexpected at times, but never op._

_Enjoy the read!_

* * *

Matriarch Levona took a sip of her tea and sighed, a smile crossing her face. Before her, a great red sun set over purple waters. The gentle rays of sunlight hit her with their blissful warmth. It felt good to savor the simple things of life, away from the hustle and bustle of the Citadel.

Just some quality Thessian tea, a good e-book and the sound of waves crashing against rock far beneath her.

The book spoke of CY-6, better known to her as the Sol system. Hundreds of novels had been published about it soon after its lockdown by Turian forces. She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her glass cup. Those had been days of speculation and conspiracy theories. Luckily none of them had caught on and soon enough it was forgotten.

For years she had been tormented by guilt, remembering the faces of those she had befriended in her brief time on the planet Earth. Decades went by and she recovered, now these books served only as entertainment to the aging matriarch.

But sometimes, it still hurt. To remember those Humans, surly and paranoid perhaps, but so full of promise ...

Levona nearly spilled her tea when her front door banged open, shattering the peaceful evening. "Rali, already back?" No answer. She unclipped a small pistol from her belt. Even in her greatest sanctum, she couldn't afford to relax.

The nearby wall provided excellent cover, the main door was just around the bend.

"Anybody there?" she called out.

Her only answer was the creak of old-school floorboards beneath her feet and a gentle breeze agitating her dress...

Her blood ran cold. That wasn't a breeze. Something moved right next to her. Instantly she brought up her weapon, but a powerful arm batted it away. A flash of white-hot pain tore up her limb, strong enough that even adrenaline couldn't mask it. It drilled deep into her skull.

Her head smashed against the wooden surface and for a few moments she was blind. As her vision slowly returned, she managed to make out a large asari-like creature in front of her, covered in black armor. Asari? Turian? She absently realized she was lying down and that something hot was trickling down her cheek.

"What do you want?" she managed.

"You will die now." said the person.

She felt her chest tighten as a wave of fear smashed into her, sending her scrambling back against the wall. That language. She hadn't heard it in one hundred years. It wasn't possible! Bile rose in her throat.

But her vision returned to confirm what she heard.

"This cannot be happening...It is impossible!" she said, her voice rising. Fear clouded her mind, obscuring any coherent idea of resistence.

"Hate made us strong." replied the human standing before her. He took out a pistol from its holster and pointed it down at her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her mind was at peace. Perhaps she deserved this.

* * *

Councilor Tevos had few friends and even fewer people she looked up too. Matriarch Levona had been one of them. She was gone now, it felt like a knife plunged deep into her chest. Levona had been a close friend for centuries. In their younger days, even more than that.

She swiped away the small tears gathering at the corner of her eyes and turned back tot he Maiden in front of her. The young Asari couldn't be more than one hundred years old and had been unfortunate enough to be the first to lay eyes on Levona's body.

"Tell me your name again, young one." She said in a soft voice.

"Rali, Councilor." Said the Maiden, keeping her eyes downcast.

Tevos could feel the pain emanating from Rali. She knew she had been Levona's aide. They had been very close. It almost made her feel jealous. Almost. She couldn't feel anything but grief in such a situation.

"Sit down and tell me again what happened, slowly."

Rali took a deep breath and nodded. "I was in the colony, shopping for our week's provisions when I recieved the break-in alarm on my Omni-tool. I instantly alerted a Turian soldier in the colony and ran off to the house. I didn't wait for them...I-I couldn't." her voice broke for a moment.

Councilor Tevos left her to recover, a sad look on her face. She had dealt with grief for much longer than the young one.

"I hurried over as fast as I could. When I found her, the house was empty. But she was there, sitting against a wall with...with a hole in her head." Rali wiped her hand over her eyes. "Miss Levona would never be defeated so easily and the guards said she was dead for hours when the alarm came on. I just...I don't know what happened. She was so kind." she choked back a sob and lapsed into silence.

Councilor Tevos nodded and rose. She walked around her desk and patted the girl on her shoulder. "Return to your family, Rali. Thank you for your help. Take care of yourself."

"Yes, Councilor. Thank you, Councilor." murmured the Asari before quickly retiring from Tevos' private office.

Tevos sat down heavily at her desk, her mind whirling. This wasn't a simple assassination. Whoever had done this wanted everybody to know it had defeated some advanced security systems, executed a powerful Matriarch without a fight and left without leaving any evidence. Whoever had done this wanted it to be personal.

Well, they had just done that. The assassin would regret it. Tevos tapped her comm system. She was angry now, furious.

"Yes?" came the cold voice.

"Send your unit to investigate Matriarch Levona's death. I don't care how you do it, but find the killer."

"Of course councilor." replied the voice.

The comm went dead. Tevos would have her revenge.

* * *

Jala N'ia was proud of her sharpshooting skills and didn't hesitate to toot her own horn. She had bested every soldier in the colony and even some Turian vets that had settled on Ferra for some peace and quiet. Now she just had to beat the newest Turian in the team, and she'd be crowned queen of the snipers for another year. Jala was pretty, with gentle curves and soft features so often sought out by other Asari. It had without a doubt helped her rise to fame.

"You ready, Vos?" she called over. She was lying prone with her rifle held firmly in her hands. six hundred meters away, on the forests border, six red-painted targets waited to be annihilated.

"Always. Get ready to lose your title, Jala." said Vos, the challenger.

Both looked down range and glanced back at each other both grinning. Anticipation sang a sweet song in Jala's veins. Her fingers itched to prove her skill once again.

One of her friends walked up and waved a small handkerchief. "Ready...Set...Fire!" she shouted, dropping the square of fabric to the ground.

Two fingers squeezed and two projectiles tore down range, slamming into two targets and downing them.

Jala grinned as another fell to her precision. No way he could beat her! She had just settled her sights on her next target when it fell to the ground. She tensed and growled in frustration. It lost her a precious second as she tried to reacquire the next target.

There was another bang. The last one fell.

"No!" She cried, smacking a fist againt the soft earth.

"Yes!" Ccrowed Vos. "The Queen is dead, long live the king!" he jumped up and hugged his rifle in a most un-turian display of affection.

Jala smirked. Perhaps she could wriggle a win out of this after all. She turned towards the Asari standing by. "You got that?"

Her friend returned the devious look. "All of it."

"What do you mean?" asked Vos, suddenly looking nervous. His mandibles drooped.

"Just that if you say you won, all the Turians on the colony will see this." crooned Jala. She tapped her omni-Tool and projected a short video of him hugging and kissing his rifle.

Her smile grew wider as Vos did the equivalent of a grimace of fear. Turians could face an armed Krogan without flinching, but threaten their honor...It was almost too easy.

"You wouldn't do that! It was a fair fight and you lost!" he shouted, pointing an accusing claw at her.

Jala merely shrugged and headed towards the shooting ranges gate. "One has to maintain a reputation, don't they, dear?" she said waving back at him. She gave her still-warm sniper rifle a quick kiss, laughed and hurried towards the door.

Vos ran after her, his rifle still smoking in the grass. "Hey, come back and give me that Tool! Hey, Jala, come on!" he shouted. He made a swipe at her arm and she hopped out of range, facing him.

Jala put her hands on her hips in mock anger. She'd have felt sorry for Vos if it wasn't her own reputation that was threatened. "Ah ah ah, watch out there. Wouldn't want my finger to slip..." Her hand hovered over the send button and Vos froze.

They stared at each other for a minute, before Vos finally grumbled something and turned back towards the shooting range. "All right Jala. You won. But we're having a rematch with a bigger audience this time. Not a traitor!" he gave Verli, Jala's friend, a light punch on the shoulder but she just laughed it off and winked at Jala.

They both snickered, until a voice buzzed in all three soldiers ears.

"Okay boy and girls, funs over. I want two of you to go investigate the treeline. Sky's getting dark and someone said they saw a fire. Could be a crackpot, a hobo or a camper. Whoever it is, go have a look for me, allright?"

"Yes, sergeant!" said Vos. He ran over to his sniper rifle and picked it up.

Jala gave Verli a light shove. "You go ahead. I need to report back to base and spread the results." she blew a kiss at Vos, who looked away quickly. With a parting laugh, she ran off towards the cluster of buildings a mile off.

Vos was still grumbling when they reached the towering trees. Verli had taken his complaints good naturedly and joked around on their way there. By the time they slipped past the first thicker branches, his spirits had been considerably lifted.

"Still, she's so vain!" he said, kicking at a rock.

"Shh...You can keep on complaining after. We need to focus on the missions now." reprimanded Verli.

Vos stiffened and nodded, berating himself for letting such a small thing crack his Turian discipline. He decided she was a terrible Asari and left it at that. He stowed his rifle on his back and pulled out his pistol. They wouldn't need more against the quarian or homless they'd find. It happened a few times a year and they always redirected them to the communal housing in town.

"There it is." Whispered Verli, pointing towards the faint glow nearby.

Vos nodded and moved forward quickly, making little noise in the soft undergrowth. They were out of the trees soon and walked into the clearing with their guns half raised. Both froze at the sight before them. There were two people in the clearing. One Quarian sleeping on her side with her body facing away and another shape standing next to her. He, for it was obviously male, was clad in black armor and was hidden by overlapping shadows and the constant movement of the flames.

"Sir?" said Vos. "If you need shelter you should come with us. Is your friend all right?"

When the Quarian didn't answer, Verli walked over to the female and shook her shoulder. "Ma'am?" the Quarian fell onto her back and Verli jolted back with a gasp. There was a huge crack in her visor and a neat hole in the pristine features beneath.

Vos instantly had his gun up and aimed at the other Quarians head. Verli soon followed suit.

"Hands on your head, on your knees!" bellowed Vos.

"Down, now!" yelled Verli, walking closer to him.

The being slowly raised his head and looked straight at Vos. The turian almost recoiled at the sight. The quarian wore a mask like no other. It was pitch black and made of metal, welded to a helmet with two red tinted holes for vision. It looked scary, even to him.

"You thought you could end us." It said in a cold, impersonal alien voice. "You were wrong."

Then it struck, faster than Vos could react, it punched Verli in gut so hard he heard her back snap. She fell to the ground without a sound, her eyes glassy.

With a shout, he opened fire onto the man. But he weathered Vos' fire, his shields flashing, and charged towards him. The turian knew these were his last moments when he looked into those deep red holes. He didn't close his eyes, he faced his death and charged towards it willingly, to avenge his friend. Like a proper turian.

* * *

Jala had jogged all the way back and stopped by her small one-person apartment on her way to the base. She'd take a quick shower, get a change of clothes, make sure she didn't look mussed up then head back to announce the good news. She was once again the winner and queen of sharpshooters on Ferra.

It didn't take long to freshen up and soon she was outside again. She hurried towards the base and passed the guards without a problem.

"Who won?" shouted one of the salarians at her.

She spun around and kept on moving. "What do you think?" she said with a grin. He shook his head and returned to his post. She laughed and jogged over to the command center.

The thick iron door slid upon at the touch of her hand. "Hey I'm ba-"

"Shut it!" snapped the sergeant, an old grizzled turian.

She snapped her jaw shut and glared daggers into his back as he focused on a screen. "Is there a problem, sir?" she said icily. He was being plain rude, especially after her win. He didn't even react to her tone, a preoccupied look on his face.

"Vos and Verli aren't answering, we've been hailing them for ten minutes." he answered.

Jala frowned. Both were good soldiers and a vagrant wouldn't have been any trouble to them. "Comms aren't broken?"

"We're putting a signal through, they just aren't picking up." said a Salarian. "Should be checked out." he told the Sergeant.

"Yeah, go on private. Take a car and find them." said Sarge.

The Salarian walked past Jala and gave her a friendly nod. "Who won?" he whispered.

She brightened immediately and the Salarian just shook his head with a small smile. "Why do I even ask?"

"Go on and find the loser and my friend." she said, giving him a light shove.

He chuckled and stepped out of the room.

"Sergeant, something strange on the perimiter cameras." called an asari.

Both Jala and the sergeant hurried over to her, looking over her shoulder. Jala was starting to feel nervous. She really hoped Verli and Vos were allright. Maybe he had been angry and had done something wrong, made a mistake because of her. Suddenly, winning didn't feel so good anymore.

"There." said the Asari. She pointed at the small group of armored people walking into the main street. They wore pitch black matte armor and helmets. Their eyes were red. Maybe two dozen, no more.

"Who are those weirdos..." said Sarge. The Salarian officer that had just left was walking up to them, holding up his holo badge. "Ah, good ma-Shit!" cried the sergeant. The leading figure had drawn a pistol and popped one in the Salarians skull, blowing off half his head.

Sarge tapped a button on his Omni-Tool. "Everybody gear up! We're being attacked! Civilians at risk, protect them at all cost! Jala, rifle on the roof now!" he turned towards her, but she was already gone.

Jala tried to shut her ears to the screams in the streets as she ran towards the access lader on the side of the building. She could hear the sound of mass-accelerated weaponry and a strange distinct bangs nearby.

Her blood was boiling. These mercenaries or pirates had killed her friends. She was going to show them what the Queen was capable of. She jumped onto the roof and sprinted to the edge. Jala punged onto the hard material and brought her rifle to bear. She looked down the scope at the scene beneath her.

"Stop these bastards!" roared Sarge over comms, spraying one of the armored figures with a dozen shotgun pellets. The pirates' shields flared and he moved quickly to cover. Sarge cursed. That had been the third shot that hadn't breached his shields. They were too quick, well trained, constantly jumping to cover before their shields depleted.

The same figure leapt out of cover again and shot two quick bursts. Sarge's soldiers were horrendously outgunned and faced an enemy with much better training. Two of his men's shields shattered and they fell to the ground, crying out in pain. He ran over to them and grabbed one of them, an Asari. She was screaming in pain and trying to push him away. He realized why when the veins beneath her skin began to turn green, veins burst in her eyes and they were swamped with purple blood. She gave one last cough and spewed it over his hand. Then she fell still.

Caesarium rounds. He cursed and ducked beneath a wall.

"Watch the Rad-rounds!" he bellowed to his men.

Then he heard a terrible screech, like metal on metal. A dozen soldiers covered their ears, crying out in pain. Their enemies took that chance to rush towards them and leap over their improvised barricades. He watched in horror as one of the armored men shoved a long, terrible wrist blade into a Turians skull, while another blew an Asari's head off at point-blank range.

In minutes, his force had been decimated. He was the only one left. He grabbed his grenade and charged with a cry, a final cry for honor in death. The bastards would pay.

Jala had shot until her barrel was burning hot and then kept on shooting until it melted. She had disregarded overheat protocols and permanently damaged her gun. They were fast, ducked away after her first shot. One was never enough to stop them, but Jala wasn't the queen for nothing. With nimble fingers she extricated a heatsink from her gun, avoiding the burning metal.

She reloaded swiftly and aimed down the street, her teeth grinding together. It sent jitters up into her brain, but stopped her from screaming in impotent rage. Her rifle kicked into her bruised shoulder and one of the raiders stumbled, clutching at his throat as red blood spurted between his fingers. He fell to his knees and Jala raised one fist in trumph.

Her eyes widened when the raider started to spasm. "Godess... " she whispered. With trembling fingers, Jala removed the heatsink. Her attention was fixated on the fallen soldier. Obviously still alive, his whole body was falling apart as if from some extremely corrosive acid. Jala tore her gaze away from him and turned back to the fight. She'd have more than enough time to inspect the corpse later.

She watched as the raiders slaughtered her friends, one soft hand covering her mouth. Saw her Sarge charge the enemy, halted midway by a Harpoon round to the chest. It impaled him to a the burning carcass of a speeder, cooking him alive. The pirates didn't try to end his suffering.

Now she was all that was left of the defence force. The last one capable of stopping them from gunning down innocent civilians. Already, dozens were dying as the pirates mercilessly shot into the fleeing crowd, slaughtering man woman and child without discriminating.

As the screams increased, she rose from her spot and hurried to the ladder. She had to do something! Halfway there an invisble hand caught her and threw her onto the ground with astounding force. She grabbed her throat and gasped for breath as she looked around wildly. Slowly, a figure uncloaked before her. it had no gun in hand but a large rifle on its back. It was just looking at her.

She tried to ignore the pain in her throat. She needed to know. "Why?" she rasped.

"We avenge the innocent dead." answered the person in perfect trade-talk.

It knelt beside her and gently slid a steel knife into Jala's chest. The Asari felt the cold metal all the way to her heart. It hurt more than she could have imagined and she glaldly welcomed the great nothing of death.

* * *

A small ship appeared out of nowhere above Ferra. It was completely black, with no distinctive features and no visible weapons.

Two pieces of metal on its side slid open to reveal a pale blue force field, through which two shuttled slipped in. A moment later, the doors shut and the ship began to move away at relatively slow speeds.

Inside, a squadron of men disembarked from the shuttled and broke off into groups. One of them, with a red triangle on his black armor, made his way through the maze of dark grey corridors and dimly lit maintenance tunnels until he reached a large metallic door.

He pressed his hand against a pad and with a beep, the two halves parted.

On the other side was the ship's command center. It had wide windows with a two hundred and seventy five degree field of view. A large display board stood in the middle of the room with a map of the galaxy on it. All around, black clothed soldiers and navy personel hurried about in absolute silence. Nobody spoke, nobody needed too and the man liked it that way.

He approached a figure that was looking out at the planet beneath them.

"It's done." the man said in a cold voice.

"Excellent." replied the ship's Captain, Heinrich Hartmann. "Deploy Uranium gas canisters on the planets wilderness. Leave the city untouched. Get an RIG on the ground. Phoenix Plan."

"It will be done." replied the soldier, unable to keep his vicious glee out of his voice.

"This is but a taste of what they will recieve. But a sliver of their suffering. These Citadel species destroyed us. We will return the favor." growled Hartmann.

The soldier saluted once more. "Vengeance for the fallen."


	3. Strike at the heart

**Chapter 3**

AN

_Thanks to all those who reviewed, I tried to answer significant questions. If I forgot you don't hesitate to PM me. To those saying that this is similar to Necronicus' story - They are correct. I'm following the basic idea for the beginning of the story. However, I will begin to truly branch out in chapter four and onward._

_Thanks for reading_

* * *

Turians were known for their resilience, their toughness and their discipline. But Garrus Vakarian felt like crying for the first time in his life at the sight before him. Tears of rage, frustration. Not sadness. He couldn't feel sad about this slaughter. He wanted revenge on these pirates, to kill them and make them pay.

'You are sure?' He said slowly, running his eyes over the ruined city. Everywhere houses were burning and corpses littered the streets like trash on Omega. Blood was as omnipresent as dirt and had soaked into the walls and soil.

'Yes.' Replied a Salarian soldier. 'All inhabitants accounted for. No survivors.'

Garrus slid a claw along his mandible, trying to soothe his anger. The town of Ferra was bustling with unusual activity. Instead of children playing in the streets while mothers watched over them, hard faced Turians carted bodies to a shuttle. They would be brought to the Citadel where families could retrieve them.

He had arrived fifteen hours ago and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since. For a whole planetary rotation they had scoured the city for any functional camera or audio footage. But even the smallest recorders in the most insignificant of houses had either stopped working or been destroyed.

'Nobody escaped into the wilds?' He asked the Salarian.

'Some, yes. Gunned down before they could reach woods. Few who made it died of irradiation. Unknown material, dispersed as gas, highly radioactive.' The Salarian sniffed and shook his head. 'Unethical. Cruel.'

'Whoever did this, they're going to pay for their crimes. The Council won't take this lying down. If these were Batarians...' Garrus trailed off and clenched his fists. All he needed was an excuse to tear into those scum.

'Luitenant!' Called an Asari, running up to him. 'We have found footage from an omni-tool. A sharpshooter I think. She was found dead on the garrison roof.'

'Show me.' He snapped.

She saluted smarly and spun on her heel, jogging off through the crowd.

Garrus turned around and pointed a finger at the Salarian. 'Find me all you can about their methods and tactics. I want a full report ready for when we return to the Council.'

'Of course.' Said the Salarian.

Garrus nodded and ran after the Asari.

They reached the garrison quickly. It was such a small town that the building itself was barely larger than an apartment block. It only increased Garrus' fury. To attack such a defenseless colony with obviously violent intent. They hadn't even looted or taken slaves.

He reached the roof and followed the Asari over to a prone shape near the edge of the roof. He stopped next to her a winced. It wasn't the worst kill he'd seen, but still...

A young asari maiden lay stretched out in front of him. Her eyes were wide open with fear and a big blotch of blue blood stained her white and red clothes right above her breasts. She looked innnocent, and too damn young to be dead.

'Where's the footage?' He asked, pushing away his feelings. He needed to focus. He could mourn the dead later, when he was killing the guilty.

'On her Omni-tool.' Said the soldier. She knelt down next to the fallen sniper and gently took her omni-tool from her wrist, before settling both of the dead womans arms over her chest and sliding her eyes shut. She whispered a prayer for her soul and Garrus politely turned away.

'Here, sir.' Said his soldier. He turned back and walked up next to her. A few taps and the omni-tool was active again. A holo screen popped up and they were offered a bird's eye view of the carnage.

'Spirits...' Said the Asari, blanching. Civilians and soldiers were falling with disconcerting ease, against a small group of enemies moving with the smoothness and skill far beyond any simple pirate group. These were mercenaries and they looked Asari.

'Eclipse?' Said Garrus with loathing.

'No! Even they wouldn't go this far, they are not stupid.' Said the Asari with a frown.

Garrus let it slide, he knew he'd have reacted the same way had they been Turian. He patted her shoulder and her features softened.

'Sorry sir.' She said. 'It's just...'

'I know.' He let his claws slip from her shoulder as the screen turned black after a short burst of static and some garbled words. 'Give me the Tool. I'll see if the Citadel techs can clear up the end.'

She handed it over to him and headed for the ladder, her head hanging low. Garrus watched her leave then turned back to face the city. He could see all his men from here, working tirelessly to get the dead away from the cursed town.

He looked over the fields towards the forest. What was once green now looked dead and barren, irradiated and unsafe. He couldn't imagine why they would spare the town from it, to just kill the inhabitants after.

With a sigh, he tapped his comm. 'Get a crew on the Garrison roof, I have a body.'

* * *

'Phoenix plan.' Said the voice.

The RSI operative nodded and slipped past two guards into the ruined colony. How her hands ached to grip their throats. One sharp jerk and they would be dead, two more to add to her growing count. She paused mid-step and looked back. Maybe she could...Nobody would notice. But her iron disciplin took over. Orders were orders, she would obey them.

She watched from the shadows of a window as the guards found the planted omni-tool and grinned beneath her mask. This would be fun, hopefully they gave the thing to someone important. But if not...Oh well.

One by one they left, till only one of the accursed Turians stood on the roof, fully exposed, an easy shot with her rifle. The wind was good and she had a bead on his skull...No. She had to restrain herself, for now.

Once she had made sure the omni-tool was safely away she did one more tour of the town. She took a couple pictures of the bodies and ruins. Good propaganda.

The city fell quiet as the last of the soldiers started pulling out. The RIG operative headed towards a clearing in the forest. She almost tripped over a body lying near the edge. Without a seconds thought she had drawn her weapon and knife, ready to blow a hole into her enemy.

But the person didn't move. Instead, Jane Shepard finally realized there was a gaping hole in the aliens faceplate and the face beneath was decomposing. She knelt down lower and frowned. The alien looked almost human and there were no records of these beings in the information they had gathered from the old contact.

She took another picture and backed off until her back struck the cloaked hull of her ship. She would report this to the Admiral. He might be intersted in a new race.

The trees around her began to sway and creak as a strong wind blew past her, tugging at the straps and blowing leaves into her face. She paused for a moment to savor it. She couldn't feel it and probably never would, but at least she could imagine the touch of air against her skin, cool and fresh. She wanted to feel that one day, to live on a world where she didn't need her armor. To live on a clean human world.

A small alarm rung in her helmet and she dashed to her ship. The whole thing uncloaked, revealing a sleek black fighter. It had little weapons, but she loved it all the same. It wasn't made for brutal fights. Just like her, the little vessel was a scalpel in an age of big guns and cannons.

With a blast of hot air that charred the remains of the unknown alien her ship flew off into space. Perhaps she could visit her little brother when the mission was over.

* * *

Garrus had always loved the Citadel. The peace of the presidium, the bustle of activity in the wards. It felt alive, full of energy. It was why he had taken a spot as a C-Sec officer, though he had quickly realized how much of a bad idea it was. The army was a better decision.

His aircar landed near the Council tower and he sent over a few credits to the driver. 'Wait for me here.' He said.

The Salarian nodded and reclined in his chair. He probably didn't have a chance to see the opulence of the Council gardens much.

Garrus walked across the perfect lawn and through the doors, brushing past security in a matter of minutes. He reached the Council chambers just as an argument broke through the flimsy doors.

'Need more details!' Said a voice.

'Obviously Batarians, we must strike back!' Shouted the flanged voice of Councilor Sparatus.

'Councilors, I believe the officer in charge of investigating Ferra colony is at the doors. Why don't we let him shed some light on the situation.' Said the soft voice of Councilor Tevos.

Garrus took a deep breath and checked his armor. Everything was in place but he couldn't help feeling nervous. He was about to announce terrible news to the council. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news.

The door slid open on it's own and he marched inside. Before him stood the three councilors on their balcony, all around them on different levels were various citizens of the upper crust of society, come to investigate the proceedings of the council.

Garrus ignored them. He would have much preferred to speak in private but the council was adamant. The public needed to know what went on in the government. They had a right to.

'Councilors.' He said, saluting.

'Luitenant Vakarian. Please report.' Snapped Sparatus.

Vakarian nodded and hastily pulled out a datapad from his pouch. He could see when his Councilor was angry and Sparatus' impulsive nature was legendary. You didn't want to get him started at you or you could well loose your rank.

'Ferra colony, as you know, was attacked by an unidentified enemy. We were sent to investigate...' He paused and rubbed his mandible nervously. 'All citizens are accounted for.'

'Excellent!' Said Tevos with an Asari smile.

'Dead, ma'am. We have found every colonist, dead.' He said, averting his eyes from hers as she took a small step back, her eyes widening. He felt guilty enough without having to share her grief.

'Do you know anything else?' Snapped Sparatus in a tightly controlled voice.

'Yes sir. Most were killed with metallic blades, kinetic rounds much larger than our own or burned. The enemies used Caesarium filled rounds along with Polonium and chemical rounds.'

'Pirates.' Snarled Sparatus.

'All? Are you certain? no escapees into the forest?' Said Valern, the Salarian councilor.

'Some escaped.' Said Garrus. 'Unfortunately the wilderness in a three hundred mile radius around the colony was coated in a heavily radioactive gas of unknown origin. Salarian scientists on the field are calling it Ferranium. It is much more radioactive than any material we know and killed any escapees in minutes. Some even showed signs of mutations.'

'Goddess...' Muttered Tevos, passing a hand over her eyes as if to bat away terrible visions.

Garrus nodded and brought out his 'trumpcard'. It was there only chance to find out something about these enemies. With any luck, they'd track them down and bring down the full fury of the Turian Armada down on them.

'I also retrieved one functional Omni-Tool. All others were either wiped, smashed or gone along with some of the more advanced technology in the garrison. Unfortunately, this one is heavily corrupted. I was hoping...' He trailed off, looking at the Salarian councilor.

'Will try, might take some time.' Said Valern, stretching out a hand.

Garrus walked up to them and handed the Omni-Tool to the councilor. He slipped it onto his wrist and activated it. The rest of the room watched with bated breath as he tapped away at the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration. Minutes dragged on slowly and soon both Sparatus and Garrus were getting jumpy.

'Aha!' Said Valern. 'Have it...I think.'

The councilors crowded around him and Garrus joined them. He looked over the salarians shoulder as the video began playing. He ignored the soft gasp from Tevos and growl of anger from Sparatus and looked away. He didn't need to see the slaughter twice.

He looked back a few seconds later and was greeted with a new scene. Now, the Asari sniper was turning around and drawing her pistol. Just as he was wondering what she was looking for, she was lifted of the floor by an invisible hand.

His fists clenched when the figure decloaked. It was different from the others, slimmer, more feminine and with less armor. But the helmet was even more intimidating than the others. It looked like a skull, an Asari skull with glowing eyes.

They watched in horror as the being spoke in an alien voice then slowly drove a blade into the whimpering maidens heart. Finally, the video cut off. They all pulled back a bit and Garrus politely ignored the teary eyed Asari.

'So, what do w-' He was interrupted by another screen popping up from the omni-tool. Instead of another video, there was only one word in Turian. 'Fools.'

'Spirits, what are they trying to do? Provoke us?' Snarled Sparatus.

He spun around when Valern cried out shrilly. He was clutching his arm and looking at the omni tool in horror as a green liquid started to leak out of it. With his free hand the salarian tried to take it off, while a whole group of soldiers stormed up from their guard positions below.

'Acid! It can't get into the bloodstream!' Shouted Garrus.

He looked around desperately for a way to cut the flow of blood and didn't have time to react when Valern grabbed his Turian combat knife and sliced his hand and wrist off in one clean stroke. He cried out in pain again and fell to the ground, shivering.

'Medic, now! Get him to the hospital!' Shouted Garrus. He watched the omni-tool fizzle then dissolve into a puddle of grey muck. Their last chance at tracking down their enemies had been taken from them.

In the panic, nobody noticed a sudden flicker of the lights or the little notification that popped up on the guard chiefs omni-tool. The AI slipped past Citadel firewalls with barely a ripple and hunkered down for as long a wait as it needed.

* * *

Infiltrating the Citadel had been easier than Jane had ever imagined possible. The Council dogs were getting arrogant and lazy. They were leaving holes in their defence. Even the Turians didn't seem to think anyone would attack the Citadel. She had practically scraped a Frigates hull coming in and nobody had detected her. Far too easy.

Earth could probably get in enough men to cause havoc and then get them out two hours later without ever being detected.

If the detailed records given to her by High Command were anything to go by, many people were struck by the magnificence of the Citadel upon their first sighting. Obviously, humans were an exception. Upon laying eyes on it, all she could think of were the grey drab walls of the bunker she grew up in and the ancient ruins that littered Earth's surface.

The Citadel was too pretty, too soft. It sickened her to think people lived in such ease and comfort while her little brother struggled to stay alive on earth. While the whole human race struggled!

She stayed cloaked for most of the infiltration, only trying to preserve her battery when she was crawling through air vents and tunnels, away from the prying eyes of guards and civilians. Nevertheless, she'd had to take out a few of those Asari when she ran into an armed group in one of he larger tunnels beneath the surface.

She savored their last breaths.

Reaching the Council chambers had been childs play and now she was lying down in an air vent near the top, waiting for the perfect moment and thanking Vengeance that their plan had paid off. The omni-tool was in council hands.

'Initiate Vindicator.' She whispered.

A few moments later, the Salarian was missing one hand and the Humans had an AI in Citadel systems. It was almost too easy once you got close to a Council terminal.

She crawled out of the vent and dropped into the huge air conditioning tunnels. It was back to earth for her, and her little Johnny. She smiled at the thought and wondered if he'd be as in good shape as before.

* * *

The void of space, great in its majestic silence. To any ship passing through the uninhabited and unremarkable system, it would seem deserted, exempt of any life. It had been so since Council explorers found it. So said Citadel records.

But to one who knew where to look, it was an easy task to spot the three dozen ships floating near a collossal gas giant. They were all black, no designs and no symbols. There were few guns showing on these ships and they all looked flimsy, fast perhaps, but weak.

Nevertheless they were home to Jane Shepard and she loved them. The assembled armada of Human space forces. It had originated from Reverse engineered Turian space tech and hadn't stopped growing since, the pinnacle of human engineering and a symbol of pride to them all. Despite their irradiated planet they could still reach for the stars.

She guided her starfighter into a hangar bay on the biggest ship, her homebase. The Devestator. It was little more than eight hundred meters long, unimpressive against some of the ships she had seen at the Citadel. But Humans had long since forsook full on space attacks.

She leapt out of her cockpit and stretched slowly, admiring the practiced efficiency of the crew as they went about repairing and checking her ship. Every time she saw her races military might, their mens discipline, she remembered why she was so proud of them. Why she would die for them.

'Commander, report to me on the bridge.' Said the ships Captain, Advirez.

'Yes sir.' She said. One last look at her beloved vessel and she hurried off into the maze. Thirteen minutes later she was entering the bridge and saluting the Captain.

'Sir. The AI successfully infiltrated their network and the Councile should be in dissaray. One of their own lost a hand in the mess.' Said Jane with a grin.

'Damn fools. They didn't even check it for sabotage. Well, they'll regret that soon.' He looked her up and down. 'Holding up Shepard?'

'Always sir.' She answered, saluting once more. She and Advirez were good friends.

'Good. Then you're dimissed. I wouldn't be surprised if you get some leave Earth side after this stunt.' He patted her shoulder and turned back to his console. 'And don't forget to say hi to Johnny for me if you do. I heard he's kicking ass in Mil training.'

'Of course sir. I'll make sure he knows you care.' Jane winked at him as the door closed.

The lighting in the ship was red and sparse. Most navy personel could navigate their ship in total darkness, some could even conduct repairs with there eyes shut they were so used to seeing nothing. Jane was born for the shadows, made for spying and assassination. But navigating the Battleship with barely any light was a completely different matter. She barely reached her small, personal bedroom in time to see a new message on her terminal.

'Thought you might like to know. Phoenix operation has been launched. -A'

She laughed and fell onto her hard bed, savoring the comfort of a thin matress instead of the nearly completely metallic pilots chair. It was a welcome change.

Jane was too tired to change. She slipped off the bottom part of her helmet and threw it on the cluttered desk. It landed among a pile of documents, gun parts and bullets. Her boots joined the mess of clothes in the half-open closet. They were spilling out and covering half her room. Which wasn't much at all.

Finally, she could sleep in peace. After years of training she had served a purpose, aided humanity in its great goal.


	4. For the many

**Chapter Four**

_AN:_

_Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews. It's always encouraging to know that people are enjoying what you write. To the guests asking me questions in the reviews, I encourage you to log on/create an account and ask again so I can answer you._

_Despite my misgivings I've decided to write a brief codex at the bottom of this chapter to explain a bit about human technology. Their appearance will have to be discovered by reading the story itself._

_To counter the inevitable private messages I will be recieving after this chapter; no, I will not be changing Chapter 4._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Sparatus and Tevos sat in a small office concealed by the Podium. It was comfortable and cozy, in stark contrast to the sweeping arches and huge expance of the Council Chamber itself. But it was a welcome relief from the prying eyes of the galaxy. A place where they could talk without being heard and discuss secrets too sensitive for public ears.

'How is Valern?' Asked Tevos, looking up from her book.

'Hm? Oh, he is managing. Some of the toxin got into his bloodstream but the doctors said he should stabilize soon.' Replied Sparatus.

Tevos frowned. He had been distracted lately and it worried her. You needed to be at full capacity to function properly as a council member. He was obviously not.

'Good. We can't hide this assassination attempt for long. We were unfathomably lucky that nobody was in the Chamber when he was attacked.' She said.

'The repercussions...' Sparatus trailed off.

'Would be grave.' Finished Tevos. She closed the book with a snap.

Sparatus slammed his fist into the table with a growl. His eyes were alight with a fire she had not seen for a very long time. 'We can't let these pirates think they can get to us so easily! I'm getting Spectres on this. I've already come up with a plan.'

Tevos watched him wearily as he rose and started to pace. 'I will not ask the specifics, only that you act with caution. I want to find them too, but we must be careful.' She wanted to find them more than he probably knew.

Dear Levona, she would kill those who had ended such a respectable, beautiful matron.

'I am no fool Tevos. The Spectres will live up to their name.' He said before turning to the giant screen attached to one wall. 'We should see what the news is saying about the slaughter.'

He snapped his fingers and the screen turned on. It took a few moments to focus and when it did, Tevos almost fell out of her chair from shock.

The reporter, an Asari, was holding the cambot herself, pointing it to her face and the scene beyond. She had a gash on her cheek and blue blood was spilling onto her pristine dress.

'We've been attacked here on Harvest Five. They came without warning and struck at important military structures from orbit. The army is putting up a good fight.' She turned the camera around. It focused on a line of Turians a hundred meters away. They had pushed up heaps of aircars and debris into some sort of wall and were pouring gunfire down the street at an unseen foe. 'Reports say the attackers are Asari-like in shape but much bulkier.'

A cheer came through her microphone. The reporter turned towards a passing Asari soldiers but an explosion muted out her question. When she turned back, she was grinning. 'It looks like the enemy is pulling back! Our soldiers have won!'

A huge explosion tossed the camera through the air. It landed on the ground and started to smoke. From its point of view ont he ground, the two councilors watched in horror as a green gas began to spread through the street.

The same Asari who had spoken to the Journalist moments ago ran up to her and helped her up. She grabbed her helmet from her waist and shoved it onto the reporter's head before shoving her towards the doors of a ruined apartment building.

The journalist stumbled away, swaying dizzily while the soldier ran towards the camera. She grabbed it and lifted it up to eye-level. 'By the goddess, this better be broadcasting live. If you can hear me, Harvest Five is lost, enemy is trained military, numbers unknown. Alien in nature, not Asari. Police forces not trained enough to hold...' She coughed up some blood as the ever-present and eery gas rose up to her face. 'Using...WMD's and unconventional..' She fell to her knees as her veins started to turn black beneath her skin. 'warfare.' She rasped. The soldier shuddered one more time and fell to the ground, dead.

The cambot rolled away until it was facing upwards. Then a huge boot crushed it. The screen turned dark and both councilors looked at each other.

'Spirits...' murmured Sparatus.

Tevos buried her face in her hands. The turian commander, Vakarin, Vakarian had described the gas extensively when used on Ferra. It was the pirates work again.

'We must send a fleet!' She said, rising.

Sparatus lifted his hands in a placating gesture. It was strange, now that something was happening he seemed calm and in control.

'We will. But look at this first.' He said in a low voice and pointed back to the screen.

They watched as the screen changed to another colony, where a radioactive mushroom was rising into the air. Then another reporter appeared on the screen. Static filled her video feed but it was easy to see the black figure that came up behind her and slit her throat before shooting the camera.

'These can not be pirates.' Said Tevos in a low voice. 'They don't have enough resources to attack so many planets at once. Most of all, they aren't this crazy.'

'Perhaps, we are facing a new race.' Said Sparatus.

'If so, then I pray our armies will have an easier time fighting them.'

* * *

Huron was a peaceful colony. They were safe in the knowledge that the turian 5th fleet patrolled their sector and that no pirates would be mad enough to face the fury of the greatest military of the galaxy. When it nuclear warhead obliterated one of their cities they were caught by surprise.

The surviving settlements had dissolved into panic and turians ran for gun depots and asari fled to the fields. Two hours later, the crazy activity had not abated. Few were ready but the enemy didn't wait for them. They came fast and hard.

Fer was one of the few soldiers in the settlement and held one of the rare sniper rifles in stock. He was hidden behind a metal slab with two other turians, waiting for the enemy to unload and approach them.

An old and scarred turian turned to Fer and his friend. 'When they're in range, give them everything you've got. They nuked Quelia, they'll pay for that.'

Fer nodded, his face twisted by a hateful scowl. His family had been on a day trip to Quelia that day. He held no illusions as to their fate. He gripped his rifle tighter in his claws and peeped over the edge. The young turian couldn't hold back a shudder at the Asari-like soldiers approaching them. They were clad in black armor with glowing red eyes.

'They're massive...' Said his friend, Liki. He pointed to the hulking men behind the infantry. They were broad-shouldered and heavily armored.

'Stay calm.' Snapped the Sarge. He signalled to the men across the street. They nodded back and Fer tensed.

'Fire!' Roared Sarge.

Fer leapt from cover with a yell and lifted his rifle. His first shoot was perfect. It tore down range and slammed into the leading mans shields. From the other side of the road the second sniper shot the same man. His shields shattered and he fell to the ground. Three dozen Turians opened fire on the invading force and six fell before the rest were able to take cover.

Fer heard screams from one of the houses the invaders had taken cover in. The sharp retort of a pistol cut it short. He roared in fury and shot again. This time, the shields shattered and one enemies head exploded into a fine red mist.

He grinned and shot again. They would never let these monsters take their homes.

Then his grin faltered. A moment later it failed completely when three giant figures came rushing forward. They pulverized stones beneath their steel boots and scattered debris like leaves in the wind. They ran with guns blazing, ignoring their broken shields and the bullets tearing into their armor.

Behind them charged the infantry with their eerie silence. Not one had screamed or even spoke since the beginning of the fight.

Fer barely had time to leap to the side before one of the juggernauts blasted through his cover. The grizzled vet rolled away and shot at it with his pistol until it was a molten mess leaking from his hands. The titan made a terrifying howling sound and jumped forward. A blade buzzed on his arm as he sliced down at Sarge's shoulder.

The turian didn't have time to dodge and the monster cut him cleanly in two, from shoulder to hip. At that moment, Fer abandoned his bravery and leapt out of a window into a back alley. He heard a horrible scream as his friend fell, but didn't care. Soldier or not, he hadn't been taught to fight these nightmares in black.

He glued himself against a wall and looked around wildly. He expected to see the monster break through the wall and squash him against steel like a bug. What he got was little better. One of the enemy soldiers smashed another window and landed next to him.

He didn't say anything and lifted his gun to fire. Fer closed his eyes. Then a huge explosion rocked the block and he threw him across the alley into one of the trash containers. He rose with a groan and looked around, if he could run fast enough...He froze when he saw the enemy laying halfway beneath a huge slab of steel. He looked dead and Fer felt his turian courage flow back in an instant. If he could bring this enemy to the Hierarchy, they could maybe learn something.

He grabbed the dead mans arm and began to pull.

* * *

The council chambers were buzzing with hundreds of voices as the crowds grew. Every different race was present in the galleys and balconies, eagerly waiting for the councilors to show themselves and share the news from their own perspective.

But the shining white pedestal was dismally devoid of its members. Not an hour ago, a heavily armed contingent of STG members escorted Valern into the small office. Every reporter that had come closer than fifteen feet had been brutally reprimanded.

Of Tevos and Sparatus, nothing had been heard of for hours and the public was starting to get restless.

Through the thick titanium doors and a screen of guards, sat the three most important people of the known galaxy. They were rewatching the scenes of destruction that had plagued the outer colonies over and over again. Every time, Tevos felt a deep ache in her heart. Their people were dying out there and they were powerless to stop it.

'You're sure they are gone?' She asked.

Valern nodded grimly. For the last hour he had read off his datapad and reported the news to his two companions. 'Yes. STG planetside on many colonies. Much destroyed, few survivors. Little signs of dead enemy, resistance was minimal. Only thing STG found is scraps of metal with highly corrosive acid. Suggests enemy destroys soldiers upon death.'

'Then we are certainly facing a new species. Why would pirates hide their dead?' Snapped Sparatus. Tevos had noticed his growing restlessness. Being unable to help was a hard burden to bear for any Turian.

Valern nodded. 'Agreed. Video feed being analyzed as we speak. Survivors being brought to safe haven. Very few.' He took a deep breath. 'Enemy thorough. Clinical.'

His datapad beeped. Tevos waited anxiously as Valern's brow rose progressively higher. Finally, he looked up with a smile. 'Living enemy captured. Being brough to interrogation on Citadel. Advise visit and watch. Arrive in two hours.'

'Let's go!' Said Sparatus. Tevos got up and followed close on his heels. Finally they had a lead.

Jason Dre was furious. He had woken up in a dark cell with the familiar thrum of engines beneath him. His helmet hadn't been removed and he had no trouble adjusting the settings to see as clear as day. What he had seen wasn't encouraging. He was stuck in an advanced cell, without a doubt on an enemy ship. But the worst of it all, his kill-switch was malfunctioning. He couldn't terminate himself!

Two times during the trip he had glimpsed his captors but they were cautious. He grinned, no doubt they knew the prowess of human soldiers. He would remind them once more before he ended his life. All he needed was a gun.

He would never betray humanity to these Citadel rats. Never.

The whole ship shook and he knew without a doubt that they had arrived at their destination. He glued himself to the wall next to the door and waited. Jason ignored the cold sweat that formed on his brow or the adrenaline pumping through his veins. If he was fated to die, then he would embrace it. For humanity. To save his beautiful Ana.

He waited, but nothing happened. Nobody came. Five minutes later and it finally dawned on him. He was already moving. The shaking hadn't been the ship docking, it had been his prison capsule being unlocked.

'Fuck me.' He snarled. 'Gotta get them another way then.'

He waited until the pod shook again and positioned himself in front of the door. He would charge them, that would be a few easy kills.

The door slid open and he charged with a roar. He bowled past the first shape and heard the wet crunch of bones snapping. A second figure, an asari, got the full might of his iron-clad fist in her skull. It popped open like an over-ripe cherry, spilling grey matter on the floor where she fell.

He spun around and faced the third person, another Asari. But this one reacted quickly. He barely had time to leap at her that she was surrounded in a bright blue aura. It lit up the grey walled room and surrounded him, slamming him full-force into one of the walls. It shook from the impact and small splinters of steel fell on him like a deadly rain.

He strained against her might, but it was all for naught. Only a few seconds later, two more of the blue skinned girls rushed in and forced his mighty shape into a restrained chair. Then, without ever looking at them, they cleaned up the mess he had made and left without a word.

His old pod disengaged and the wall slid back into place.

Finally, all was quiet, except for his heavy breathing, distorted by his mask. He watched the asari as she strode to a chair and sat down. She didn't look shaken or scared, but perfectly composed. It irritated him beyond anything else in the situation. She should be terrified of him, of what he represented! He was a Human Screecher. The best of the best!

'Can you understand me?' She said in a cold voice.

He could of course, every soldier had the antiquated versions of the aliens speeches included in their brain processors.

'Can you understand me?' She asked again.

Once again, Jason ignored her and strained against his bonds. A little more and they would give out. He was certain that they hadn't been built with a Screecher in mind. He thought of Ana, he had to be strong. He couldn't leave her alone in the hard parts of town. She'd never make it without him. Perhaps death wasn't an option.

'Why are you attacking the Citadel?' Said the interrogator.

He couldn't help it. The words slipped out on their own. They had been drilled into his skull since his birth and for years he had dreamed of saying them to a council rat while the life left their eyes. This would have to do.

'Vengeance for the fallen.' He said in his heavily electrified voice. A blue glow surrounded the Asari's hand. He roared angrily.

A flicker of surprise crossed the interrogators face. He grinned viciously. Maybe he should scare them. Make them fear humanity. 'We know all about you. You will all burn in the fires of retribution.' It felt like he was reciting the Holy Bible. Words he had known since his youth, read in books, seen on the patched up old TV his mother had used to have when he was a kid.

'What do you know? Why do you seek vengeance?' Said the Asari.

'You destroyed us. We will kill until your planets are barren wastes and your Citadel a shattered ruin.' His voice grew louder, he could feel his ancestral hate coursing through his veins and he let it carry him away. 'Humanity will crush you beneath it's boot like a worm!' He bellowed.

Jason took a long breath and leaned forward as far as he could, till he was but two feet from the Asari. 'You will die.'

Then the cell wall slid back open with a hiss.

* * *

The three councils had been wary this time. Instead of participating to the interrogation they stood behind thick transparisteel and watched in a horrified fascination as the capsule released the prisoner. Sparatus stared at the being suspiciously while Valern gave it an analytical look that Tevos knew so well.

She on the other hand tried to understand it, from its armor, its movements.

'Damn!' Hissed Sparatus when it struck with blinding speed, smashing two Asari to pulp before it was finally halted by a powerful biotic impulse. 'That thing is fast.' He turned towards Valern and leaned on the glass. 'Any first impressions?'

Valern nodded and tapped his chin slowly. 'Yes, obviously similar to Asari in physical construction. More massive, unless armor is deceivingly thick.'

'This being is full of rage and hate, I can feel it from here.' Said Tevos in a low voice, gazing at it as it strained against its bonds. Everything it did exuded raw strength and a primal rage so often associated with Krogan in battle.

'Yes, mental attitude is similar to captured Krogan.'

'You'd know.' Said Sparatus with a sniff.

'Krogan good experimental subjects.' Said Valern without a trace of regret. 'Perhaps removal of the helmet is necessary?'

'Yes, very well.' Tevos closed her eyes and sent a small impulse towards the Asari, just enough to transfer the necessary information. The interrogator didn't even turn her head as she pulled off the helmet and the councilors leaned closer. 'Goddess...' Murmured Tevos.

Before them sat a bone white being with exceedingly Asari-like features. The only difference was the more angular and sharp jaw line and more pronounced brow, accompanied by a light fuzz on the top of its head. Perhaps the most shocking of all were the two milky white eyes. A barely visible iris and pupil could be seen if Tevos focused enough. Then a moment later it shut its eyes tight.

'Mammalian, vestiges of fur on the head.' Said Valern, tapping in notes on his omni-tool with practiced efficiency. 'Possible blindness.'

'He isn't blind, he's just sensitive to the light.' Said Sparatus wisely. He waved an arm towards him. 'Look at his skin, this alien hasn't seen the true light of day since it's birth.'

'What sort of people would even want to continue living on such a planet?' Said Tevos with a shake of her head.

'I'd put my credits on one that loves skulking around in the shadows like a primitive predator.' Sparatus spat on the floor and stepped back, his fists clenched at his side.

Tevos sighed. He was too emotional, to violent. In times like these she wondered how wise it was to have the Turians on the council. Valern would always be motivated by cold logic and good of his people but it was better than fiery pride. 'Calm down Sparatus, anger will bring us noth- What?' She stared at the Prisoner pod wall as it ground open slowly.

* * *

Jane Shepard should have been home with her Johnny. Instead here she was, with her hi-power pistol deep within the guts of the Citadel once more, hunting down a soldier dumb enough to get captured. She just hoped it wasn't anyone she knew. The General had been unwilling to give her any details.

Hacking the system hadn't been complicated when she had an AI on her side and she had quickly found the prisoners location. Two minutes later she had a way into the cell and an hour after that she was standing in front of the wall as it slid open.

The moment there was a wide enough opening, she slipped through and got a bead on the Asari. Jane pulled the trigger and the stunned Asari had no time to react as a shield busting bullet dug a hull in her skull.

Jane recharged her one shot pistol and aimed it at the head of the prisoner. She absently noted the Screecher emblem on his shoulder. It was a shame, they were tough and hard to come by. But orders were orders and he was a liability to humanity now.

'No hard feelings.' She said, before shooting again. His shields broke and he roared with fury. She ignored it and reloaded. Another shot and his head split in two. His screams faded into gurgles then nothing.

Jane didn't stop to watch the show and ran out of the opening without a look backwards. She didn't have enough time to liquify him. The Council would know who they were facing, but that wouldn't stop Humanity. They were too far to be halted by a fleet or an army. Nothing would stop them now.

She ran as fast as she could. Without augmentations she was sure they would never catch up to her. But with...She sprinted past a confused looking blue-skinned technician and bowled her into a wall like a stampeding Rhino.

'Stop!' Bellowed a magnified voice from behind her.

Jane paid it no heed and leapt over a gap to the nearest access ramp. A few more feet and she had broken out from the complex maze of corridors. She ground to a halt. 'Fuck!'

A great hole lay in front of her and a horde of enemies behind. She glanced up and down the pit for any grips, but the steel was as smooth as a newborns skin, with no blemishes or pipes. Jane was stuck. 'Fuck!' She said again. She grabbed her pistol and turned around, facing towards the incoming enemies.

All was quiet for a few seconds, until the patter of boots began to echo and intensify. Voices followed it and not a moment later the first enemy rounded the bend. She brought up her pistol and shot the Turian in the face. He slammed into the wall and she desperately tried to reload.

The other ones cried in alarm and backed away from the deadly corner. It wasn't long, but it was enough to reload. The next one to come had his gut blown out by the large calliber gun. An Asari came in right behind, too fast for Jane's gun. She darted forward and punched the alien in the throat with all her might.

Her fist slammed into the Asari's chin and crunched her jaw into splinters like wood beneath a tank. 'Come on, come on!' She screamed.

Jane knew she was dead meat. There was no way out except through the enemies. But she'd be damned if she left without taking as many as she could with her. She drew her combat knife and dived into the shocked crowd of soldiers.

Everything was red, she hacked and ducked and struck in a crazed bloodlust, paying no attention to her increasingly critical collection of wounds. Salarian, Turian and Asari faces were all she saw, each one twisted in an expression of agony as she ended their miserable lives.

She paused when they began to flee. Jane felt dizzy and light-headed, as if she had taken too much spices. Her whole body felt numb, but she was burning with a bloody glee. The enemy was fleeing before one human! How weak could they be?

Then she heard a sharp gun retort and felt like she had been punched in the gut by a Screecher. She touched her belly and looked down. Her fingers were now tainted red. They had wounded her.

She tried to get up, but her body wasn't responding anymore. Jane fell to her knees and her knife clattered down beside her, sprinkling blue blood over the floor.

She couldn't die now. She was so close to escaping. But she felt the sharp pain in her neck and knew it was over. A moment later, corrosive acids began to flow through her bloodstream and her face burned and dissolved, she held back a scream as she fell to the floor in a writhing heap, she could feel her body liquefying, a pain like none she had ever felt before. The once good-looking and deadly woman was soon reduced to little more than a puddle of grey liquid. Dead for her people.

* * *

**Codex**

**RIG:** Recon & Intelligence Group. Human special forces, their operators are often wiped from the data banks of bunkers. Their past is murky, suffice to say, they have a fearsome reputation and uphold it every day. Earth is not devoid of rebels and RIG are often sent to sabotage rebel bunkers, allowing the government to eliminate the threat with ease.

It is unknown to the public whether or not RIG operators have gone through genetic modifications but the rumours are persistent. They wear light armor but have tougher shields to compensate.

**Bunkers: **The homes and cities of all humans they are the vestiges of old nuclear fallout shelters that have been massively expanded to fit in the crushing influx of population after the meteorites struck. Many linked together and created underground cities spanning for miles underground. Quality of life is relatively poor however ninety-five percent of the population refuses to move off planet Earth. The army and navy conscript the remaining ninety five percent.

**Projects: **Hulking beasts more metal than man they are created from the roughest, toughest prisoners on the globe. Murder is absolutely prohibited in human society and most Projects are former killers. They undergo extensive re-engineering. Their hands are removed to prevent them from rebelling effectively and replaced with weaponry. A hulking armored suit is grafted to their body and a control chip is implanted into their brains, giving the Navy a way to channel their fury and rage. Often regarded as little more than beasts they are used as human light armor and are able to punch a hole through a light tank.

**Cybernetics: **It is common to see cybernetics on soldiers and workers, mostly to replace lost limbs and strengthen a body part. Unfortunately eyes and brain parts along with other delicate pieces are still nearly impossible to create.

**Rifles: **Human soldiers use an evolved version of the immortal AK-47 merged with various other weapons such as the SCAR and the FN FAL. Bullets are often filled with liquid caesarium, now found in abundance on earth. However, to counter shield technology they are all powered by excessively high doses of explosives. Using a human assault rifle without armor could shatter a mans arm.

**Screecher: **Often looked down upon by the RIGs, these are the equivalent to ancient day US Marines.

* * *

**Enjoy & Review**

**I'm looking for a proof reader. I'm not a native english speaker and often make small grammar mistakes that fanfictions autocorrect doesn't catch. I'd rather someone who has written before since it allows me to evaluate their authenticity.**


	5. We come in peace

**Chapter Five**

AN

_Thanks for all the reviews, appreciate it. Some reviews answered at the bottom. As you probably noticed, I changed the title._

* * *

'Move it, dogs! If we don't make it back to the Bunker before the storm, we're all dead!' Roared Sergeant Rosefield.

Rosefield was a brutal man with scars covering his most of his body and tattoos hiding the rest. He had the eyes of a predator and the roar of a lion. Every trainee was terrified of him and John was no different. He stepped forward, groaning in exhaustion. His leg felt like lead. He had walked for miles that day, fleeing the oncoming storm.

It was a violent one too, with a reddish glow beneath its black clouds, like the fires of the underworld. Without a doubt it would rain acid before day's end. He tripped on something sharp, it nicked his foot and he fell to the ground with a gasp. John felt too tired to rise, exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt before. His whole body burned and every muscle was like a limp rag.

Perhaps if he lay there for a while, Rosefield wouldn't see him and he could take a nap. The storm was still far away.

But the sergeant had wheeled on him the instant he fell. Some deeply ingrained instinct must have warned him of the weakening trainee. He slammed his boot into John's back, kicking the air out of him. A tuft of ashes rose into the air as John gasped explosively.

'You scum!' Screamed Rosefield. 'You think you'll be worth anything to Humanity when you're weak? Get up! Get up!' He kicked John again.

His words rang around his head like a chorus of a million voices, thundering and rolling until John heard nothing but the terrible mantra. Get up, get up, get up. So he rose, slowly and unsteadily, with fire lancing up his back.

Reprieve was not an option. Rosefield grabbed him by his lapels and pulled him up against his chest. His eyes were red like every other man and woman in the group. Long exposure to earth's atmosphere did that to a man. What had once been breathable and clean air was now stagnant and poisonous. Only a few secluded spots still held any sort of life. But even those had been bathed in ashes and turned into massive pits of decay.

'Shepard!' He bellowed over the howling wind. John looked away as spittle flew into his face. It was warm. 'Even your sister did better than you! Do you think you're worth our time if you give up? You maggot, back in line!' He practically threw John into the group of exhausted trainees. A few halfheartedly tried to keep him steady as he stumbled. Most were probably as exhausted as him.

John looked at his bloodied hands. The rocks were sharp and he felt the pang of the deep cuts right down to the bone.

'Move it!' yelled Rosefield.

John lifted one foot and set it in front. He adopted a ponderous rhythm while his mind drifted far away from the ash shrouded surface. He couldn't wait to return to the warm safety of the bunker. Even training rooms and barracks beat the hell they had endured for the past five weeks. Rosefield had been there all along, it was beyond him how the man could keep on going without falling dead.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, John heard the blessed sound of the Door. He looked up in a drunken haze and smiled. His lips cracked and blood dribbled down his chin, behind the pale shredded flesh was a set of yellow teeth, cracked and dirty from many falls and fights. Finally, he was home.

* * *

John threaded his way between the two massive guards. Neither acknowledged him, focused on the far end of the hallway, invisible behind their thick helmets and dark eyeholes. Not that he expected them to talk, Projects never spoke.

He dashed down a crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding a crisp looking woman with a sheaf of notes. He'd have a message from his sister on the terminal. He'd tell her everything! The rough concrete wall was harsh against his fingers as he skidded around a corner, grabbing onto it for support. It hurt his freshly healed cuts but he couldn't care. Not now.

Corridor Alpha-66 was home. Dark and unlit, though a little light filtered in from 67 and 65. Water dripped from a leak near his door and a lattice of cracks ran across most of the wall. He smiled as he stepped over the body of a sleeping homeless man. It was home. His rusty door screeched and woke the unfortunate sleeper. He cursed beneath his beard and turned towards the other wall, clutching his frayed blanket tighter.

Without bothering to change into casual clothes, John ran to his terminal and activated it. He opened his Inbox. But there were no messages from Jane. His face fell and he slumped into his chair, the picture of deception. Of course she was busy, but still...

'Come on Jane, just one message wouldn't hurt.' He said.

He opened his newest mail, sent from the Admiralty. Probably some congratulations for passing Boot camp. When he saw the first lines, John felt like his heart had stopped beating and his guts had risen to his throat.

'Dear mister John Shepard. It is with much regret that...' He slammed his fist into the desk as tears popped into his eyes. 'No, no no no!' He whispered. But his eyes had no betrayed him.. A death-letter, compensation and condolences. Jane Shepard, 26 had fallen in battle against the detested citadel. She had died honorable, accomplishing a vital mission.

John felt numb, his Jane, big sister who had taught him everything and cared for him after their parents died. She was gone, he was well and truly alone. Angry tears burst from his eyes in streams of hot fury. He rose from his seat and threw his chair at the wall with a scream of anger.

John tore his apartment apart in a blind fury, so great was his rage that he didn't hear the phone ringing or the light knock on the door a few minutes later.

Finally, he fell to his knees in the middle of a cyclone of destruction and wept. He wept bitter tears of betrayal and hate. His sister had abandoned him so early, but the fault lay with the Council. A foot soldier would no longer be an acceptable career. He would not sit back and wait as a reserve while his sisters killers lived comfortably in their shining cities.

No, he would find them and they would know the name of Shepard before they died. He would follow his sisters footsteps. In honor of her memory. She would have wanted it.

* * *

_4 months later_

* * *

'...Citizens are encouraged to limit any travelling and stay at home at night.' The wan looking reporter took a deep breath. 'The Council itself endorses these words, for your own safety, please follow them. More information at .'

The videofeed switched back to the prim looking salarian presentator. He wore an expensive looking suit with small lights flashing on his sleeve cuffs like christmas bulbs. The alien swiped an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder and turned towards the camera, plastering a fake grin over his face. 'The Council has sent its finest to investigate these mysterious aliens. Worry not! Soon all shall return to normal.'

Kael'vas tapped a button on her wrist and switched off the news. She snorted and waved a hand in the air expressively. 'They've been saying that for months, I still haven't seen any victories.' She swivelled around. 'What do you think Tali? Is the oh so mighty Council going to save us all?' She laughed.

Tali'Zorah tapped her fingers against each other and nibbled on her lip. "I hope they stay away from us, they were scarier than angry krogan.'

Kael'vas waved a dismissive hand in her direction and grabbed a small bottle, sliding the emergency induction port into her helmet. "Oh stop worrying, they'd have no reason to attack us when they could strike at Asari planets."

"Maybe..." Tali trailed off and frowned within the confines of her helmet. She had seen them slaughter thousands on the news and it scared her. Who would be so cruel? The news had said they weren't robotic. She shook her head and sighed, she was no coward but she could see crazy when it was shoved under her nose. She leaned back in her worn down chair and sighed. Hopefully they would steer clear of the Migrant Fleet.

A voice crackled over their old comm system and both sat up straight. Kael'vas pulled her straw out with one last slurp. "Scanning deck, prepare for initial scan, jumping in five...four...three...two...one..."

With a shudder their battleship entered FTL. It groaned under the strain and the tormented screeches of old metal echoed up and down the hallways. Tali turned towards Kael and they both laughed. 'She's in as good shape as always.' Said Kael.

The ship slipped back into normal space and its hull sighed in relief. Tali echoed it and glanced at her computer terminal. The screen was blank apart from eight blue dots, the fleets advanced guard. She typed in a few command sequences with practiced efficiency but nothing came up apart from a dozen rock shards a few hundred thousand miles away.

"All clear." She called through comms.

"All clear." Repeated Kael'vas in a relaxed tone.

"Copy, proceeding to patrol point, stand ready until general all clear is giv-" A burt of static and a huge roar blotted out the captains words. Their vessel shook and bucked like an inebriated horse. Kael'vas cried out and flew up into the ceiling, hitting it with a sickening crack. Tali felt like a krogan had punched her. She scrabbled madly at her chair as she flew up, a scream stuck in her throat. Finally, she caught onto the headrest and clung on for dear life until the bucking abruptly ended. Her arms felt like they were being ripped from her sockets.

She landed with a thump and a muffled groan. "Kael? Kael?" The floor was freezing as she crawled towards her friend with growing panic. She had seen her hit the ceiling. She grabbed the woman by the shoulder and turned her over. Tali recoiled in horror and tried to hold down her bile. Kael's mask had broken against the hard steel and a shard of plexiglass had impaled her through the eye.

'Kael...no.' She wrapped her arms around the lifeless body of her friend and clutched her against her chest, shaking her head. It didn't take long for Tali to register the screams and panicked orders coming from outside. With a gasp she jumped up and carefully lay Kael on the ground. Evacuation was always done with speed and efficiency, those who didn't make it were left behind until a rescue team arrived. She couldn't risk it. One last look at Kael and Tali was out the door. She would come back and get the body if the ship survived.

In the main hallway everything had descended into chaos. Marines were running about with guns, shouting and receiving orders while navy personnel try to slip through the groups of heavily armed men. Tali ran up to an engineer. "What's happening?"

He barely looked at her. "Hit an unidentified warship, bigger than us and very advanced. It uncloaked before our eyes." He rushed off towards an elevator and Tali wheeled around. How she wished she could wipe away the tears staining her cheeks, but they kept on coming as unquenchable as the well of grief that had opened in her heart.

A minute later she was on the deck and gawking through the window at the sleek black vessel caught in one of their spotlights. It was perhaps four hundred meters long and had no apparent weapons. Matte black with a red windowed observation deck it looked like a bird of prey preparing to strike them down.

"Zorah!" Shouted the commander. She looked up, startled. "You were supposed to detect any ships in the vicinity." He yelled into her face. "Now we've lost fifty crew members and part of deck four!"

"Sir, we ran all processes, not even a blip. A-and I know, Kael'vas is dead." She finished in a shaky voice.

The captain took a deep breath and she braced herself for another outburst. His shoulders relaxed and he nodded once, glancing back through the windows. "Very well. Your father will be here soon on the live ships. We do not believe these are a known race."

Tali shivered and suddenly felt cold. "A new race...but how new."

The captain shifted uncomfortably and played with a small amulet strapped around his wrist. "We're all asking ourselves the same question."

* * *

Top of the class stealth technology hadn't saved the Roma from the infinitesimal chance of collision. Their AI had calculated that there was a one in twenty million chance of being hit by a vessel entering the sector. Apparently the odds were not in the crews favor. Like all human ships the Roma depended on stealth and speed, the ramming had taken its toll.

John Shepard ran through the corridors, still attaching equipment to his utility belt. People dodged out of his way when they recognized his insignia. Thanks to the RIGs fearsome reputation he made it to the bridge in record time.

"Casualty report!" Shouted the Captain just as he entered.

"Twenty four dead, forty wounded sir." Replied a bushy haired woman. Captain Wilkinson nodded and jabbed a finger at her. He had a dreadful scowl on his face.

"Get all men on battle stations and prepare to board."

"Cap'n, sitrep." Said John, jogging up to Wilkinson.

"John." He acknowledged with a nod. "Were rammed by an unidentified spacecraft, detecting eight others at one hundred thousand mile intervals. Cloak was downed. All eight converging on our position."

"Any hostile activity from the unknown?"

"No, they're sitting there. Took more damage than us, our shields gotta be better cause the hull is paper compared to theirs." The Captain ran a hand through his thinning hair and shook his head. "Their ships ain't any we recognize from the Old Contact. If they're not citadel species then we follow protocol and contact 'em. If they are..." His face tightened.

"Then we go down and kill all the ones we can." Finished John.

"Sir, we're being hailed by the enem-unkown ship." Said an officer from below.

"Very well, send them through." Replied Wilkinson. Both he and John leaned forward to look at the comm screen with rapt attention.

A screen slid down from the roof with an alien face on it. A glass visor covered the face and an intricate hood hid the rest.

"Unknown vessel this is Captain Veri vas Fla of the Quarian Migrant Fleet Advanced guard. No hostile action intended, our scanners picked up no signal in this sector."

John and Wilkinson looked at each other. "Migrant fleet...Doesn't sound citadel based to me." Murmured Wilkinson.

John shook his head and buried his anger under steely discipline. He couldn't allow his emotions to get in the way and provoke conflict with potential neutrals. "Could be, better ask them now and send a signal to the fleet."

Wilkinson nodded and signalled to a nearby officer who nodded and jogged towards the comms room. "Patch us through." Called the Captain.

He straightened and donned one of the black masks. John grabbed his helmet from his belt and slipped it on, pushing a button on the side to activate it. How his hands ached to hold a gun and charge into this new species, to kill them before they could threaten earth! His frontal plate slid over his face with a hiss and he tasted the familiar recycled air.

"Captain Veri vas Fla." Said Wilkinson in a commanding voice. "This is the Roma. We accept your excuse. Identify your allegiance."

John frowned as the Captain recoiled and turned to talk to someone outside the picture. He waved his hands around animatedly and the RIG realized he only had three fingers. Finally he turned back the screen and spoke again.

"The Quarian Migrant fleet is not affiliated to any dominant power." He replied.

John breathed out slowly and relaxed. Perhaps they didn't deserve to be killed after all. "They speak galactic so they gotta know about the Council species." He said.

"Yeah, yeah. But if they ain't part of them then we can't go against them. Command would rip us a new one if we survived." Replied Wilkinson almost regretfully. He turned towards the Quarian and clasped his hands behind his back. "Querin vessel we request permission to send a...diplomatic envoy to your ship to further communicate."

Then back to John. "You're coming with me along with four soldiers."

John grinned beneath his helmet. "You couldn't have stopped me from coming anyway." He said and he could imagine the glare Wilkinson was sending him from beneath his helmet.

Finally Veri vas Fla's voice echoed through the room again. "Very well, four people allowed. We will mark the hangar bay."

"This is it." Said John. He didn't know what to expect and how to prepare. Were these aliens a threat? All he knew is that he wouldn't let down the people waiting back on Earth.

* * *

Tali was jittery, so were the dozen marines if the way they were fingering their weapons was anything to go by. It hadn't been hard to recognize the masked men in the other ship, they were without a doubt those that had been terrifying colonies for months.

Only a few lonely stars and the flash of the approaching ships reactors broke the monotony of space.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Captain?" She asked.

"I do not know, but I will take the chance if it means we avoid hostilities with these people. I will risk my ship to save the fleet." He said in a solemn tone, stepping forward as the vehicle broke through the hangar shields.

She followed him and prayed that this wouldn't end up in a bloodbath. They could handle one ship, but there was no telling how many others lurked out there, still hidden. Technology had always been her closest friend, to think that these people could defeat it made her more uncomfortable than she would have liked to admit.

The shuttle was as black as its mothership. It landed quietly. There was a hiss and a click as the doors slid open slowly. Tali grabbed her pistol the moment she made out the dark shapes of soldiers and guns. Behind her the marines lifted their rifles and aimed at the door.

"Do not shoot." Shouted a clear voice from within the vessel.

"Hold fire." Commanded Veri.

Out stepped four of the soldiers that had covered the news channels for weeks now. But attention quickly switched to the two following men and a few marines gasped. Tali herself was speechless. One of them wore nothing but a strange-looking military suit made of black and red. His face was exposed. It was bone white with extremely asari-like features and hair, hair on his head! Like the Quarians! Only red tinted goggles broke the smooth features.

The other man was a less welcome figure. He wore a black skull shaped helmet and walked with an air of confidence that she had only seen in Asari commandos before. Special Force, she knew it.

"Welcome to the Fla." Said Veri.

* * *

The Quarian battleship was less than impressive, decided John. Their hangar was a mish mash of various metal plates with cables hanging like long serpents from various holes in the roofs and walls. The only interesting part of it was the group of aliens before them.

Contrary to their ship all of them were dressed in clean and intricate clothing of many colors with no apparent military significance.

"Stand back." He ordered through comms to the four soldiers. They promptly stepped behind Wilkinson and he, stiff and at attention.

"Welcome to the Fla." Said the foremost of the aliens. He stepped forward and touched his shoulder with one finger. Shepard looked him up and down slowly. His body was human enough if it wasn't for the articulated legs and three-fingered hands.

The Quarian turned around and pointed at the alien next to him. John realized for the first time that she was probably female. He eyed her with interest.

"This is Tali'Zorah Vas Fla." Said Captain Veri. "She is daughter to Rael'Zorah, an Admiral of the Migrant Fleet."

Captain Wilkson strode forward and put out his hand, his face an expressionless mask. Johns grinned beneath his helmet, everything was a game of first impressions and tough guying now. "I am Captain Wilkinson of the Roma. Human Fleet." He jabbed a finger over his shoulder at John and he stiffened staring at the Quarians arrogantly. "This is RIG Locust, my...ah, political officer onboard."

Finally John tilted his head towards the Captain and he returned the gesture slowly.

"We asked that there be no more than four men upon that shuttle, I see six." Said Veri. "I must politely request that two return to the shuttle now. Security measures, I'm sure you understand." Behind him the Marines tensed.

"We're here now, wassda point?" Growled one of the soldiers through comms.

"It's power play corporal. Shut up and follow your orders." Snapped John. They couldn't afford any rebellious or hotheaded reactions at such a critical point in their intergalactic relations.

Wilkinson seemed to consider his demand for a moment before nodding once. "Very well, they will wait for us in the shuttle."

John ordered two of them back in and they hustled into the vessel in an orderly fashion. They had done their part, shown that they wouldn't be pushed around by anybody. He still remembered the lessons when he was a child. 'Humanity is supreme, humanity is invincible. We survived the apocalypse, nobody can beat us, nobody can dare to make demands of us!' His teach would shout, his face red with patriotic fervor.

The Quarian relaxed and turned around slowly. His Marines didn't. "Perhaps we could retire to a more adequate room?"

Wilkinson shook his head. "I am afraid that we have little time for diplomatic discussions, an envoy will be sent for to contact you in this location but the Roma must move on."

"Ah, very well." Captain Verli tapped his fingers together slowly and then turned to Tali, talking to her in quick and undistinguishable Quarian. John and Wilkinson looked at each other and Shepard shrugged ever so slightly. They couldn't exactly force the aliens to speak galactic.

"Captain Wilkiisan?" Said Tali'Zorah.

"Yes?"

"I have a few questions from my father. He understands your eagerness to continue your mission but would like to have these answered."

John frowned, were they trying to stall them?

"Very well, but you would be well advised to make it quick, Ma'am." Replied Wilkinson.

"Thank you." She stepped forward and activated her Omni-tool, a piece of equipment that Humanity had ruled out in favor of HUDs and wrist blades. "Do the Humans have any hostile sentiments towards the Quarian people? We have never entered in contact with Humans."

"We do not...for now. As long as you are not a Council race and don't get in our way, we'll leave you to your peace." Said John, stepping forward. These were questions that required carefully crafted answer and Wilkinson was not always the most tactful and deceitful of men.

"Are you allowed to tell us the reasons for your hostility?" Said Tali.

"We will keep it at the fact that we were greatly wronged by the Citadel and it's Council."

"Enough to warrant these attacks, this slaughter?" She asked in an accusing voice.

John growled and stepped forward, pointing a finger at her. All of the sudden twelve marines had their rifles pointed at him and his soldiers were aiming at the Captain and Tali. John payed them no heed. How dare she!

"Do not speak of what you cannot understand, alien. Ask your fathers questions and keep your own to yourself." Snapped John sharply before stepping back and calling to his men. "Lower your weapons, they are not going to shoot us."

Tali had recoiled at his tirade but quickly stepped back up, her back straight and voice clear. At least she had guts, mused John. "I see...Mister Locust. My father only wishes to give you this gift as a gesture of good will. Access to the Extranet, a vast network of infor-'

"We understand the concept, we have our own version to some extent. We accept this offer gratefully." Replied John, bowing sharply. Loosing control had been stupid, his instructor would have made him run through irradiated fields until he puked in his rebreather.

"We will send you the frequencies once you are aboard your ship again." Took over Captain Verli. "We hope that our relations will remain untainted by enmity in the future."

It was a polite way of saying 'stay out of my way and I'll return the favor.' John liked that very much.

They traded a few more polite words and finally stepped back into the shuttle, shutting the door and blasting off into space.

'Are we really continuing with our mission Cap'n?" Asked John.

"Nay, they beat us up worse than we initially thought. But we couldn't let 'em know that."

"Damn straight sir." Replied John with a small grin. "They were okay...For aliens. Hope the politicians will make them stay out of our way."

* * *

**Morlow: **Perhaps it is, however an eye for an eye is a recurrent answer among humans. I doubt that such a large scale genocide would make them any more reasonable. It certainly didn't in this story.

**Necronicus: **While she was alive, in A Dark Dawn the whole thing was very hush hush. Only the current councilors and diplomats along with soldiers knew about it. Everybody was sworn to secrecy and the event was buried deep beneath billions of meaningless reports.

**Boss 12: **Humanity uses the same version of FTL that the Council species do. Remember that they cannibalized Turian tech to get their own.

_Guest: _Muster the courage to post under an account and I'll be willing to have a chat.

_Thanks to all who reviewed. Still looking for a proof reader._


	6. Quiet before the storm

**Chapter Six - A Dark Dawn**

_AU:_

_Thanks for all the reviews! As usual, I welcome your criticism (polite), your support, your ideas and your opinions. Enjoy the chapter. Reviews answered below._

* * *

Thessia was beautiful at this time of year. Sunlight always illuminated the planets proud cities and filled them with celestial light. From orbit they looked like the homes of the goddess. It was a period that Tevos had always associated with peace and love. A time she would take off her busy schedule to relax with old friends. Today she came to escape the fury of war.

Her world was changing, but Thessia remained the same. The familiar atmosphere was like a balm on a painful burn. It eased the restless beast that paced around her skull since Levona's death. She leaned against her balcony railing and watched a speeder blow past her, sending leaves flying.

"Matriarch, do you require anything?" said her companion. A three-hundred year old Maiden with beautiful features and amazing tattoo's ringing her eyes.

Many Asari never left their homeworld, her companion had certainly never braved the Citadel. She was naïve and innocent, a welcome change from cunning politicians and coniving merchants. Good company, excellent even. But neither had the spark that made bonding such a pleasing experience.

"Nothing Milira, tell me if Valern of Sparatus call."

"Actually they called five minutes ago. I did not wish to disturb you." replied Milira.

Tevos spun around and hurried into the apartment, shaking her head. Perhaps a life of isolation on Thessia wasn't ideal for mental develeoppment. She tapped a button and a wall panel slid away, revealing an array of security measures and a door. A slip of her hand across a screen and she was in her small conference room. Both Valern and Sparatus' holograms sat there, neither looked pleased.

"Finally, taking a bath and enjoying the luxuries of life, were you?" snapped Sparatus.

"My aid did not warn me." Tevos felt warmth rush to her cheeks and clasped her hands behind her back tightly.

"Your aid didn't warn you? What about your lo-"

"Enough." Snapped Valern. "We have serious matters to discuss. Cease the quibbling or STG will make decisions by themselves."

Tevos sat down and pulled an energybar from a drawer. "Go ahead then, what is so urgent that you had to break my _two day_ rest?"

"STG did research... Found ah, troubling information. Humans not a new species." Said Valern.

"Pardon?" said Tevos, staring at both of them with wide eyes. Her half-eaten bar lay forgotten on the table. "I think we would have heard of them before if that was the case."

"Allow me to explain." said Sparatus, lacing his fingers together and resting them under his chin. He took a deep breath.

"Humanity was discovered exactly one hundred years ago. They were just breaching the boundries of space when we launched diplomatic communications. Unfortunately it did not go well and they attacked us. The turian general presiding over the military aspects of the mission asked a pacification fleet and we began to take over."

"Just like that?" Said Tevos. She leaned back in her chair and took a few steadying breaths.

"Your diplomats spent three years trying to get somewhere with them. It didn't work. They were paranoid and devious, stubborn and uncooperative." He swiped a hand through the air. "But they were tough and fought hard, in the end the turian general, Vakarin, decided to send a caesarium meteorite into the planet. He was executed for his breach of conduct and the relay closed off. We thought the species had been exterminated."

"Obviously not." Said Tevos, glaring down the turian. "Now they are storming through the galaxy on a path of vengeance, killing tens of thousands of colonists." she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "They can not be faulted even if they did attack first, we broke our own word...Goddess what a mess."

Silence reigned supreme for a couple minutes. Tevos thought back to the Asari Commando she had ordered to track down Levona's killer. Nothing had come from them yet.

Finally Sparatus spoke. "We could send a team to the Sol system. To see if the planets hold any clue on their current location."

"What makes you think they don't still live on their homeworld?" Asked Tevos.

"You'd have to be insane-" But Valern cut off Sparatus.

"Caesarium highly radioactive, to remain would lead to mutations and high death rate. The planet is probably a dead world, covered in artifical night. Strategically, would be unwise to remain on known homeworld." He turned to Sparatus and inclined his head. "Continue."

Tevos scratched her crests, her mind running a mile a minute. These revelations were _insane._ Genocide? How had she never heard of this before. Despite her chaotic state of mind, she remembered what both councilors had apparently forgotten. The captured human had been extremely pale.

The trian growled. "Yes, from what my military experts have deduced it is highly probable that the Humans do not have enough men to face us in open warfare. They strike quickly at weak targets and are...well trained." He admitted. "But they would be outnumbered ten to one if they tried to attack a military planet."

"Ships not spotted. Assume extensive us of stealth technology to conceal movements. Worrisome, could potentially strike anywhere, use weapons of mass destruction." Added Valern.

Tevos sat up and coughed. Valern turned towards her, cocking his head to the side. "Yes?"

"Why did our predecessors not station any patrol at their relay?" Said Tevos, her arms crossed.

Sparatus scratched his mandibles and looked away. "They were reassigned by the hierarchy quite a while ago."

"Then we must send a team. Find out what we can and track down their homeworld. Their vengeance is against innocents, we have to stop them." Said Tevos. Her hands were curled into angry fists, urging her to unleash her power an something, anything. Always the turians, _always._

"I hear you on that one, Tevos. All right, I'll gather a team and have them prepare for departure. Tevos, have your commandos try to hunt down one of their ships. Valern-"

"STG already en route to raided planets, will analyze everything they can." The Salarian gave the equivalent of a grin.

"Very well, good luck." Sparatus faded away, soon followed by Valern.

Tevos leaned back and finished off her energy bar. She would need it.

* * *

Nobody moved, nobody dared breath lest they broke the sacred silence. Not one man or woman spoke as their officers filed in and aligned themselves against the wall, hands clasped behind their backs. A dull red light infused the briefing room with an eerie aura that any Navy or Army personel in the Human military was forced to get used too. Only the richest struggled, most humans had spent their lives in near total darkness. To John, so much light felt like a luxury.

He sat at the front of the room, next to a cute looking woman with black hair pulled into a bun. On his other side sat a large man. The black tattoo's running up the side of his face stuck out like warpaint in a room full of pure-white people.

''Tention!' snapped their luitenant.

Every Reconnaissance & Intelligence Group member stood abruptly and saluted. John could feel his heart beating faster. He licked at his sweaty lips. They were about to meet a legend.

A cane tapped against the metal deck and a few RIGs shifted, trying discreetly to get a look at the door. In stepped in a rather tall man wielding a black cane. He limped badly and took his time with each step. Hundreds of wrinkles criss crossed over his face like a lattice of old battle scars. When John looked closer, he realized the veracity of his thoughts. Those were scars. They covered every piece of visible skin. John grimaced. It must have been more than painful. A small tuft of white hair poked out from beneath his ceremonial hat. Most interesting were his eyes. They burned with the light of a man three times younger.

"Siddown men." Said the old man a surprisingly youthful voice.

They all took a seat, the woman next to him grumbling something under her voice. John jabbed her in the side without looking her way and he heard her huff idignantly before quieting down. When she looked back up, the old man was staring her straight in the eyes.

"Got something to say miss?"

She stood up and saluted, a pink tinge crossing her face. "No sir."

"Ye' know who I am, aye?"

"Yes General Murlocke."

"Then ye can siddown and cut the bull. Call me sir, no need ta' salute as if I were the king." He growled, turning away from her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The woman nodded and sat down, glaring at John who just shrugged and smiled. 'Sorry.' He mouthed. It looked like she was going to answer but Murlocke cut her off.

"For those of you who don't know, my name is General Alfred Murlok. Ah'm a hunnderd and eighteen years old and served in the military before te' Apocalypse fer exactly five months." He declined the chair offered to him by an officer.

"Apparently bein' the only surviving man from Before makes me famous and well respected enough to take lead o' this campaign. From now on I'm gonna be the guy at the top for Operation Phoenix."

He sighed and began to pace, looking them in the eyes. He stopped in front of John and frowned. "What's yer name soldier."

John resisted the urge to jump up and salute with difficulty. "Corporal John Shepard, second d-"

"I don't need yer rank, I just wanted to know the name." said Murlok. He stepped back. "Yer sister be the one who died in the enemy's capital, aye?"

John coughed and tried to ignore the huskiness in his voice, he couldn't show any weakness in this room full of lions. "Aye aye Sir."

"Well ye better fight like a fuckin' animal then cause if we don' make it all the way there then she died fer nothing. Ye got it Corporal?"

John got up and smacked his fist against his heart, glaring into the Generals eyes. "Aye sah! She didn't die in vain, I'm gonna make sure of that."

Murlocke nodded in approval and turned away, letting John sink back in his chair, his face pulled into an awkward grimace. He hadn't intended to get up, he had just felt compelled by Murloks electric aura. The man was over a century old and he still had the presence of someone John's age.

"I'm here today to personally assign you to yer' different battle zones. By groups of four you will be dispatched to twelve different war groups targeting strategic locations." A map popped up behind him with twelve different systems surrounded in red. He tapped the first. 'This is ZYV-7, known to the the Citadel species as Minnoa. The right hand aisle, first line of chairs are assigned to it, along with Luitenant Mendol.'

John leaned forward a bit to get a better look at the three other RIGs that would be in his team. He glanced at the bundle of muscles next to him. He was bullish but looked at John with intense and intelligent blue eyes. They nodded to each other.

To the other side sat a red haired woman. She smiled shyly and turned back to Murlocke. John hoped they would get time to excercise together before the fighting started, they looked all right but you never knew until you were under fire with them.

Murlocke kept on going, describing every planet and which group was assigned to it. He didn't look like he was enjoying it at all and John noticed him shifting a lot towards the end, getting weight off his bad leg. He was about to break protocol and ask him if he wanted a seat when the display closed and Murlocke began to walk out. "Y'all better get to your officers. They'll assign you new rooms and explain yer missions. Dismissed."

"Vengeance for the Fallen!" chorused the whole room.

* * *

"Approaching relay..." turian scout ship pilot Adessa glanced at the various screens positioned around her. "Everything seems functional, I don't see any anomalies." She guided the vessel into alignement with the gigantic tuning fork and turned on comms. The female turian stroked her pale grey mandibles. She was popular among the males, with her golden eyes and gentle face. Adessa played on it and dressed in red and black, she liked to think that they made her look dangerous.

"Ready on your command Captain." She said.

The cockpit was a cramped affair with barely enough room for the seat and all the necessary equipment. Scoutships were made to be as small and isignificant as possible. So when she heard the patter of approaching feet she looked over her shoulder and glared. "Not enough room!"

"Yes there is." Replied Berol, the captain. He looked at her with those wide black eyes and smiled. 'Not an ignorant grunt.'

"Sorry sir." She mumbled, hunkering down into her chair with her mandibles scrunched up against her face like a chastised child.

"None taken. You are ready to go. Wish to have first view of system." He tapped a few commands into his Omni-tool and nodded. "Video stream on. Captain Berol of the second scouting fleet. CSS Allerhuakbir, about to jump through Sol Relay."

The ship shook and everything around it turned into a maelstrom of light and movement. Adessa's head swam and looked away from the windows, fixing her eyes on the scanners. Berol's voice faded into the background.

The ship groaned like a whale and decelerated, returning to normal space no more than three hundred miles away from the relay. She blew out a sigh of relief and looked up at the screen. "Asteroids!" She screamed into her comms. "Brace!" Her hands flew over the commands frantically as she tried to counteract their forward acceleration. _Not letting them down now_. The ship tore past five or six asteroids and Adessa blew out a deep breath. She passed a hand over her brow. The worst was over. "All right, we're clear." She could hear the men cheering in the back of the ship.

"Unfortunately other scout ship did not make it past asteroids. Are alone now." The jovial feelings evaporated in the space of an instant and faces fell like anchors in the sea. Adessa herself had to wipe away a tear that threated to break her professional façade. She had known the other pilote for a long time. This had better be worth the sacrifices._  
_

"Those Asteroids can't have been there purely by coincidence." She muttered, twiddling a few controls to lower their heat and radioactive emissions.

"Logic states they were. Not uncommon for relay to break out of ice. However, if used by turians in past century, it is expected to have been cleared. Strange." He walked out of the room, patting her on the shoulder. "Proceed to given coordinates. Am sorry for your loss."

Adessa made sure the cameras all around the ship were still transmitting then pumped a little more juice into the engines. The small vessel thrummed and tore through space towards planet Earth.

They had been going for fifteen minutes when their ship picked up a signal. Adessa sat up straight and looked towards the gas giant they were flying by. It was unremarkable except for the giant storms that littered its surface. But the real source of interest were the metal constructs that their ship was spotting all around it. She gasped and turned a camera towards the constructions, zooming in.

"Captain?"

"Am aware, scanning deck detected it as well. Proceed to a safe distance, remain concealed. Want visuals, could be old, abandonned." He said.

She nodded and turned towards them. Her heart was beating fast. If this was the barbarian's home-system, their intel could be a turning point in the war. An end to it all. Her turian side had been forced to give them a grudging respect for their military capabilities. Despite their abhorrent use of WMD's she had seen the videofeeds and knew of their martial capabilities. Yet none of that would ever forgive their actions, she would be glad to see them crushed beneath the might of the Turian Armada.

A quiet alarm interrupted her thoughts. A new signal popping up three thousand miles to their left. She tensed and tilted the ship away from it, back towards the relay. A voice blaring across their comm system halted her talon an inch away from her consol.

It was cold and mechanical with a threatening undertone. "Citadel Space Vessel, turn off your engines and surrender your crew. Your relay has been blocked. You have three minutes to comply."

She turned one of the small cameras towards the visible ship and grimaced. It was obviously a battleship. Less solid looking than even the Asari ones it was made of sleek black lines and sudden sharp angles. She could see few weapons but if they made ships like they made soldiers then there was more to it than that.

The Captains voice echoed through the ship. "Forgive me, will not sacrifice crew. Will surrender now, hope for correct treatment. If not, honor working with you, excellent crew."

Adessa heard the comms officer answering as if in a dream. She rose from her seat and walked back toward the main group. If they died she did not want to do so alone in her cockpit, but amongst those with whom she had shared so many years and good memeories.

"All right, let's do this. If we're gonna die then at least it'll be fast." said an asari next to her.

"It'll be allright." Said Adessa, passing a hand over the scared looking maidens head. The blue eyed girl looked up at her with a terrified expression in her face and Adessa recognized her as one of the new recruits. "The video feeds..." the clunk of a docking bridge locking onto them interrupted her. They turned towards it just as it opened up onto two imposing soldiers, armed to the teeth.

Both men stomped into the room, their heavy iron boots making the ground and people around them tremble for different reasons. They were quickly followed by four more men, each of them in the same armor with no isignas. The room was deadly quiet except for a broken prayer from one of the Asari maidens. They were all staring at the men waiting for them to move.

Finally two broke off and went into the nearest corridor with their small and brutal looking machine guns leading the way. The remaining ones turned towards the subdued crowd. One of them stepped forward and let his gun fall to his side. 'Who is your commanding officer?' He said in a mechanical voice. He was obviously using a translation program.

Without a moments hesitation, Berol stepped forward. He looked up at the man with a brave face. "I am the captain of this vessel."

The man nodded once. "Your crew will not be executed as of now. However." Here he paused and drew a brutish pistol from a holster. Adessa leaned forward and clenched her fists. A low growl gathered at the back of her throat. "Any resistance will be met with deadly force."

Berol looked back at the crew. They all murmured their assent and he turned towards the soldier once more. The air was thick with anticipation and fear but Berol surfed over these emotional waves. His voice never quavered. "This crew will not resist. We have surrendered."

"Very well. Come with us. If we find any data eliminated from your computer banks, one crewmember will be shot every day until this information is given to us." Replied the soldier. He turned around just as the two returned from their inspection and joined the now moving column at the back.

Adessa took a deep breath as she stepped into their docking bay. If she ever got out of here alive she would return to Palaven and live a peaceful life, far away from the terror of war.

* * *

**Kinunatzs: **I did. Bloody Justice just didn't sound like a good title in the end. It didn't really send across the correct message either.

**Necronicus: **That would be rather awkward. :p -Though not impossible- *hint hint*

**rangersleadtheway: **Thanks for that, I'm not sure why I wrote it like that in the first place but I quickly corrected it.

**Bobwhy: **I almost forgot to add something to chapter six about that. Hope your question was answered.

_**All those who supported: **_Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate it.

_Sorry for the time it took to post this chapter. I was rather busy. _


	7. Hit the beaches

**Chapter Seven : Hit the beaches**

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, support and criticism alike. Sorry if this chapter is a bit later than usual. I try to post about every week, got slowed down by a short story I'm writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are getting serious!_

_Reviews answered below._

* * *

John hung on tight as an explosion sent their landing craft veering off course. The cute red-head he now knew as Chambers careened into their mass of muscle, James. Instead of the shy looks and blushing that were common when they first met, she pushed herself back up and clung to the railing without a word.

James grinned and leaned against the hull, apparently unconcerned by the ever thickening anti-aircraft fire. From his position John could see glimpses of the sky through the pilots polarized window. It was nearly black with smoke from the previous orbital bombardment.

The shuttle shook again and a red light blinked on above them. Lieutenant Anderson rose from his seat and slipped his battle mask on. Like most RIG members he had a custom paint job that they applied before entering a battle zone. His was that of a screaming voodoo puppet with glowing red eyes. Truly terrifying. He refused to tell them who had painted it, much to their annoyance.

"All right boys and girls. This coming across clear?"

"Aye sir." replied James.

"Perfect." he looked at each of them for a few moments before tapping a few commands on his wrist computer. A map popped up on John's HUD. "As y'all know we're on this planet for more than just a kill run. ZYV-9 has some seriously valuable minerals and we're here to make sure every mining facility gets captured relatively unharmed." John flinched as a shuttle blew up right in front of their own, showering it with a rain of molten metal and carbonized flesh. Anderson continued unperturbed. "Expect real damn heavy resistance, got it? They sent us here because the Council scum has a big ass army waiting down there and they need us to rip 'em apart."

Another explosion. They heard glass shattering and everyone, even apparently uncaring James looked towards the cockpit. However, the pilot waved them off with one hand while his copilot pulled out a gel bomb and filled up the gaping hole on his side. "All good" Yelled the pilot over the comms. "Just shrapnel from some unlucky infantry division."

Anderson shook his head and turned back towards the team. "Now command ain't going to tell us this but I think we can all expect a Stalingrad on this one. We have to try 'n stop it from happening. Once we control the ground we can hold off any invasion indefinitely, they'll never bomb these facilities."

The shuttle shuddered and slowed down progressively. John grabbed his mask and looked at it for a moment. On it was painted a caricature of an Asari in pain. It had been Williams' idea and he had immediately adopted it. All around him the team was checking their guns and slipping on their battle masks. James a raging demon, Williams a screaming banshee and Chambers plain red. He put his on and lined up next to the door.

"We're dropping you off in the front lines. Enemy set up some good defences near the mining city. Good luck out there RIG." The pilot saluted from his chair.

John was returning the salute when there was a flash and a surge of heat. He went flying and landed in a heap near the ammo crates at the back. He didn't have any time to recover as the ship bucked and spun crazily, sending the crew tumbling about. Red-hot pain lanced down his back.

"Hold on!" Screamed the copilot, looking back at them with wide eyes. He could vaguely hear the pilot shouting into his comms. Everything was fuzzy and the air was thick with smoke. Finally he grabbed onto a cooling pipe and clung on for dear life. Just underneath him Williams was trying to rise, clutching her chest.

"Williams!" he shouted.

She looked up and he stretched out his hand, no one was going to die in this crash. Not while he was there. She put hers out and he grabbed it, tugging her up. She flailed around with her hand until she caught the pipe. For a moment they were mask to mask and he could feel his armor pressing against hers. This was the first time he had been so close to a woman in a non-combat situation.

"Fuck I don't w-" a tremendous screech of tearing metal and a shock that jarred John to the bones cut Williams off. They both flew off the wall with bone shattering force. Everything was a confused maelström of color and pain as they tumbled around the dying shuttle. Finally it ground to a halt and John held back the urge to retch.

He lay there for a moment, trying to feel for any broken bones. Something was pressing into his back and blood was dripping somewhere in his suit. Anderson called them. "Team." he coughed. "Report."

"Aye." One after the other Williams James and Chambers echoed Johns words. He rose with a groan and looked around. A small fire was building at the front and it looked like half the belly had been torn away. Small piles of sand had gathered in the corners.

John limped towards the pilot and copilot. With a grimace he stopped halfway and turned towards the team. "Ain't gonna make it." Damn. The copilot had a large piece of plexiglass lodged in her throat. She shook all over and blood was pouring out of her mouth. The pilot was in no better condition, half his head was missing.

Anderson walked up to her and hissed, whether in anger or sadness John knew not. He turned abruptly and kicked open one of the doors. "Make it quick for her, she won't last ten minutes."

The copilot looks up at John with scared eyes, then glanced at his gun. He pulled out and she gave him a tiny nod and a barely there smile. "Thanks..." she whispered through the river of blood leaking out of her mouth.

"You did a good job." He knelt next to her and lifted her hand, fitting the pistol in it. With his help she rose it to her temple. John glanced away and bit his lip at the loud bang and fine mist of blood. Without looking to see if she was dead he got up and joined the team outside. She had been willing, but somehow he knew he would never forget the look in her eyes when she understood why he was there. Not to save her but to kill her. How he hated himself.

An instant after he walked out of the broken shuttle something pinged off his shields and sent a small ripple around his body. He ducked without thinking and charged towards team's location on his HUD. They had hunkered behind a series of boulders. Before them lay a dust filled expanse, illuminated by the constant muzzle flash of guns. Above the towering dust clouds were monolithic pillars of steel and concrete. The Mines.

John leaped behind cover and landed with a grunt. A glance at his HUD confirmed the unthinkable, he had managed to get there unscathed. His suit quickly steadied his rising body temperature.

"You lucky SOB." growled James, nudging him with his foot. He had a gash in his mask and blood was seeping from it. The rest of the team was in an equally battered state, sporting dents in their armor.

An explosion rocked the ground and John peeked around the edge of the rock. He could vaguely make out a wall about seven hundred feet from their location but before he had time to look any further, a flash of blue smacked into the rock in front of him. He ducked back into cover, biting back a cry of surprise. "What's the plan Anderson?".

Anderson pointed in the direction opposite to the enemy. "We fall back to join the main army. Once they mount the offensive we strike and try to slip behind enemy lines in the confusion." Anderson rose and propped his gun against the rocks, shooting off a few rounds towards the wall and quickly sliding back into cover. "We're in a damn tight spot but their maximum range ain't that far from here."

"We gonna run to those buildin's?" asked James, pointing to a few apartment blocks about half a mile away. They looked unharmed and many still had light peeping out of windows. James flexed his legs and rose into a crouch. "Ah'm ready when y'all are."

"Okay, everyone good to go?" Called Anderson. John rubbed his back and got into a crouch. He strapped his gun to his side and pulled out his hi-power pistol. It felt wrong to run away, especially in an open field of fire. RIG's just didn't do that.

"Go!" yelled the squad leader. They all leapt out from behind the rock and began to run, hard. Johns legs pumped like pistons as he tore towards the building. Gunfire flirted with his feet but always fell a few inches short. The buildings grew ever closer and they spotted a few more troops making their way towards them. The dust was blinding and John could feel the wind pulling at him like hungry children, trying to drag him backwards.

They ignored blazing landing craft and dead bodies, John was feeling the burn in his legs like liquid lava by the time they reached the relative cover of the apartment blocks. He bent down and gasped for breath. James was in worse shape, he was covering his head and breathing like a mating hog.

"You sound like this, Vega." snipped John, doing an exgerated imitation. James flipped him off.

"Good...job." said Anderson. He paused and lifted a finger to touch his ear. A nod later he turned towards the team. "Command established main base a few clicks from here in open land. This is going to be our outpost." he paused as a few of their forward assault bomber/fighters streaked through the sky with ear shattering noise.

They were rewarded by a far off explosion and a quickly ensuing cloud of smoke. Anderson picked back up. 'As the only RIG squad on this part of the offensive that has made it back, we're being tasked with scouting the nearby city and seeing what havoc we can cause. We stay together on this one and report back before sunset in five hours, awright?"

"Aye sir." Replied Chambers. She checked her rifle and latched it onto her back. Anderson nodded and marched towards the small agglomeration of tents nearby. A truck had just rolled up and was unloading heavy steel crates. They were multi-purpose, made for transport but doubling as wall material. The vehicle itself had huge all terrain wheels and sported a crane for manoeuvering.

"John go see what you can get us from there and meet up near the back road." Commanded Anderson. "Shouldn't be a long mission and they ain't gonna be havin' any tough opposition I'm thinkin'."

John saluted and jogged off towards the crates, frowning. It was Chambers job to do this, she was the newest member of the team. But Anderson kept giving her the lighter duty, as if she was some vulnerable and breakable object when she had soundly defeated Williams and him many a time. Only John and James could take her down, and even then it wasn't easy. Still, it wasn't her fault. She was smart, good-looking and strong. Maybe he'd have to get to know her more once this was over. John paused and looked around at the mass of soldiers. If it ever did end.

He shoved a private out of his way and grabbed a few suit batteries and memory chips as well as a bag of spare ammo and nutrition bars.

Moments later the team had divided the load and were creeping around the outpost, guns at the ready. To the left, the opposition was still firing from their wall. The right was occupied by a skyline of sharp, tall buildings. From afar they looked like spires jutting out of the earth like Satan's teeth.

"About two clicks away. Expect a patrol will come from their side too." murmured Williams.

"Aye, keep your eyes open people." snapped Anderson. They had no idea what the enemy was reserving them.

The dust storm had picked up and was playing all sorts of havoc with their electronic equipment, especially scanners and comms. Everything around was them was a sand ridden wasteland with barely a plant in sight. John had long ago turned up his helmets vision sensitivity to maximum, his eyes were wearing out fast. They stung and tears constantly leaked out of them.

"Damn this sand..." muttered James. "Even fuckin' ash is better." it surrounded them like a protective cloak. John grinned, at least claustrophobia wouldn't be a problem.

"I think I see something!" said Williams.

John ducked down behind a rock and held onto his rifle tightly. His first kill would be here and now. The rock poked him like an accusing finger, trying to break through his armor and remind him that these were people too. John brushed those concerns aside, war was war.

Williams lay down beside him and peeked around the rock. She looked like little more than a wraith with her banshee mask, an ethereal predator with a vengeful soul. "One hundred feet and closing, six turians. On alert."

John glanced at his map, trying to find the spotted targets and the rest of the team. The sandstorm had screwed up the navigation system, everything was choppy and blurry. Visual was not an option. When a RIG hid, he hid from everybody. Finally Anderson's voice broke through.

"loak...ire on my...mmand." filled with static it nevertheless conveyed the proper message.

He tapped Williams on the shoulder and leaned down next to her. "You hear that?" he whispered.

"Yeah, cloak and fire on his command." she turned towards him and John knew she was grinning as crazily as the banshee on her mask. "Ready to get some kills?"

"Oh yeah." he growled. A tap on his wrist and John felt the familiar rush of cold as his whole body faded away until the only giveaways were footprints and the sand swirling around him. Hours of practice and days of fighting together had taught the team how to operate in absolute silence when visibility was limited. John moved to his assigned position and wait. His trigger finger itched. The turians came into view one by one.

John held his breath. A sharp crack reached his ears, quickly muffled by the storm. One of the turians stumbled. Another shot and he fell to the ground with a hole in his back. It was all John needed to click off his cloak and open fire. His bullet tore into two turians with a vengeful glee, cracking their skin and burrowing deep into the vulnerable flesh beneath like hungry parasites.

A few seconds later six turians lay dead and five RIG members stood in a cult-like semicircle around them. John crouched next to one and tore off his helmet. A shuddering breath escaped him. So this was the face of their foe.

"Good job." said Anderson in a controlled voice. "Get em off the road and let's keep going."

With the road cleared and dust kicked over the bloodstains, all traces of the turian patrol vanished into the storm. It was getting uncomfortably hot in Johns armor and despite fiddling with his temperature regulation buttons he couldn't seem to relieve the heat.

"Shepard stop squirming." snapped Anderson. They were lined up on the edge of a sand dune, guns at the ready as they inspected the road. Behind them Chambers was guarding the flank, nearly invisible under a fine cover of ochre sand.

"Yes sir." he huffed and strained his eyes against the infinite waves of sand. "Temperature regulation in my suit isn't working, think I fucked something up in the crash."

"You'll survive." Anderson rolled over the hill and rose into a crouch. He glanced back at John and motioned him forward. Just as he was about to follow John froze. A dozen indistinct shapes made their way down the road in front of them.

"Cap'n, down!" he called, ducking back behind the dune. It was a testament to the trust that linked the team together that Anderson dropped to the ground immediately. They all froze as the rumbling grew louder until the sand around them was nearly vibrating.

"Tanks...Damn." said Williams. "Outpost won't know what hit 'em until it's too late."

"Quiet." snapped James in a rare moment of authority. He knew more about guns and weaponry than most of the team combined. "Looks like three heavy tanks at the back, escorted by nine light. All hovercraft. No transport vehicles."

The tanks passed them by without stopping and the team relaxed, if only just a little. "We gotta warn them!" said John, jumping up and turning towards the outpost. Their whole offensive on this flank would be destroyed if the enemy got the tanks into a good firing position.

"Get back down here you dumb bastard." growled Anderson, grabbing him by the belt and slamming John back into the sand. Shepard hacked and coughed as the air was blown out of him. He rolled over painfully and rose into a crouch. Damn Anderson and his methods.

"We don't run faster than tanks and I ain't risking discovery. We gotta keep trying to contact the outpost. Until we do, we go on with the mission." Anderson looked at them one by one until they had all nodded and murmured their assent in low voices.

"Good, if you have any ideas to improve range then spit it out."

Williams shuffled forward a bit and all eyes fell on her. John liked Williams, she was resourceful and witty as well as extremely skilled with a rifle. The perfect RIG in and out of active duty. "We could try to reach a turian outpost and hijack their signal, use it to get a message back."

Anderson nodded. "James, how long do we have?"

The hulking man leaned back and tapped his mask in a thoughtful manner. "I'd give us twenty to thirty minutes tops. Those heavies were slow."

"Okay then, let's pick up the pace. If command was right then we should run into their lines in less than ten minutes." He clicked his antique wristwatch. "John you take point."

John nodded and got up, crossing the dune and sliding down to the road below. He felt torn by guilt, if they failed then a lot of good soldiers would be killed and the offensive would be brought to a grinding halt.

* * *

The turian guards where unaware of their presence and John wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. He peeked through a gap in the wall and saw two more turians standing in front of a thick door, they were talking animatedly and pointing towards the front lines that the RIG team had slipped through a minute or two ago.

It had been stupidly easy with their cloaking, especially since every turian in those trenches expected a full on assault, not an infiltration team. John had nearly laughed when he saw them manning their guns and turrets, eyes on the horizon while the true threat slipped through their nets like minnowsharks.

"Anderson here, we're in position. You're good to go."

John glanced back at Chambers, she nodded once and shimmied over the wall like a lizard, landing behind a pile of crates without a sound. John followed right after with a little less grace and a tad more noise. He grit his teeth as a metal buckle clinked somewhere on his suit.

"We're in." whispered Chambers.

"Here we go." muttered John. Far off on the other side of the little comms outpost the sound of a turian screaming for help could be heard. The guards in front of the two-man team and to the right looked over. In a smooth move John raised his gun and squeezed off four shots at the door guards. One to break the shield, one to break the skull.

Chambers executed the same manoeuver on the right side. They all fell. "Good job." said John as they swept forward, swinging their gun every which way, clearing the area before hitting the wall next to the door. He tapped a button on his wrist and pushed the comm button. The moment of truth.

"Yes?" Said someone from the inside.

"Open up, we have a wounded soldier." snapped John. The translation system turned it into turian and the mechanical accent of the voice was easily lost in the comm.

There was a long pause then the turian came back online. "All right. Leave two men at the doors. We're letting you in."

The doors slid open on oiled hinges with a small beep. The two humans slipped in like snakes and stuck to the walls as they glided down the hallway, swinging their weapons left and right. John was breathing fast, this was going to be his first real kill. Up close and personal where he could see the turians disgusting face as the life leaked out of him.

Then the door behind them slid shut and the comm clicked back on. It was the same turian as before, this time his voice was clipped and icy. "This is Corporal Herig of the Planetary Defense Force. Your attempt at impersonation failed. There are ten soldiers around the bend, with weapons pointed towards you. You have no other means of escape. Drop your weapons and you will be dealt with in a non-violent manner."

"New plan." snapped John. He clicked on his GPS and signaled for Chambers to do the same. "Anderson we could use your help right about now." he called over comms, edging closer and closer to the corner. He could hear shuffling and muttering from the other side as the corporal repeated his message, much like one of those old Virtual Intelligences in the broken down entertainment districts of his home bunker. Please follow the rules...Please follow the rules...John shook his head clear of old cobwebs and focused on the now.

"I'd duck." said Anderson over comms. Chambers and John barely had time to react before a huge explosion shook the complex. Superheated metal and fragments of concrete pelted their armor. Their suits had adjusted the sound volume and they could now hear the popping and loud bang of Anderson's team guns firing.

John didn't hesitate. He dived out of cover and opened fire on the newest turian, slamming him into the wall with a dozen holes in his chest. He rose from his crouch and checked himself and the surrounding area quickly. A dusty haze covered everything. His teammates, more wraith than humans, slipped over the bodies and rubble towards the archway at the end of the hall.

Nobody needed to communicate. John fell in line and they rushed into the next room. There was one turian, running towards an assault rifle near the far wall. "Bye Corporal." murmured Williams before spraying his back with a fistful of hot lead. He hit the ground without a sound.

"Hurry up, we've only got five minutes." called James.

"John, get the comms." Anderson reloaded his gun with a dangerous grinding of metal on metal. "Williams and James, cover the entries. Chambers you watch over John."

John ran over to the console and sat down on the peculiar chair. It was too tall and too thin, with protrusions where none should exist. "Okay..." his suit handily translated the writing on the control board and with a little bit of fiddling he had adjusted the commands and reached the proper bandwidth. "Outpost B, RIG Squad Locust reporting in."

'You are not using your transmission devices.' replied a mechanical voice.

"Storm blocks them, we're using a turian comms outpost." he shook his head. "Listen, no time for that. You have-"

"You are giving away information to the enemy by using their own communication devices." snapped the person ont he other side.

"I don't care! You have a tank column coming from the west in five or less minutes." he glanced back at James. "Uhh...nine light and three heavies." John clenched his fists. "We'll destroy the building when we're done."

The comm speakers were silent for so long that he thought they had been left hanging. Then a new, more human voice came through. "Copy that Locust Team. Good call on that we're prepping defenses now. Ain't gonna be a problem. Outpost B out."

The line went dead and John let out an explosive breath. He leaned back in the chair and clapped his hands together. "That was bringing it too fuckin' close."

"Command ain't gonna be happy about this." muttered James. He was already pulling out loads of C-7b wrapped in wax-paper.

"Fuck Command, this was the right call. Now lets blow this place to hell and get the fuck outta here." said Anderson. He slapped John on the back and walked over the dead turian Corporal to get out of the room.

"Helluva good job we did." said John. He'd saved their force, now he just wanted to get into the front lines and start killing aliens.

* * *

**Kinunatzs: **As I said in chapter one, humanity developed by cannibalizing turian tech and adding their own modifications. They don't know any other FTL method.

**Eien Michi: **I'm glad you see it that way, that's how I wanted the story to look! I prefer a story where you don't know who is going to win right off the bat so I tried to go that way with this one.

**NoOneInParticular17: **This isn't a HFY (Humanity Fuck Yeah) story where the human race roflstomps everything and anything without breaking a sweat.

**SalemTheSpeakerOfTruth: **Think of of it strategically. Humanity here isn't stupid.

_I was hard pressed for time this week and didn't get to revise this chapter as much as I would have liked. Tell me what you thought of it! Worry not, we'll see our quarian friends again soon enough. (I've decided to add titles to my chapters.) _


	8. Bringing out the big guns

**Chapter Eight: Bringing out the big guns**

_Sorry for the late update guys! I was overloaded with work this week. I couldn't find enough time to revise this chapter as much as I wanted. Hopefully it will be good enough for you to forgive me!_

* * *

The sandstorm had stopped but the wind still blew. It twisted the clouds into a maelström of colors, like a painting of colossal proportions, giving everything an eerie glow that befitted the curious planet below.

John sat on the roof of building Three. So called because it was the farthest away from the front and the most secure. From it he could see the smoking holes in its sister buildings, One and Two. The wind tore through them like the howling of a wounded beasts. It blew up to the top of the building and swept through his short hair. He swept a hand through the brown strands, enjoying the light tickle.

John leaned back against a block of cement and smiled. Command had recognized the intelligence of their actions, commended them for their bravery and he had killed some turians. He was pondering the feeling of ecstasy he had felt when the hatch next to him slammed open.

Out walked Chambers. She had pulled her red hair back in a tight bun on top of her head while a few rebellious strands trailed down next to her face. Starkly outlined against her alabaster skin. Thick strap of her goggles put a dent on her natural beauty. A few discolored streaks of skin ran down her neck and John clenched his fists. A legacy of their irradiated home world. Thick red shades covered her eyes. She looked at him and grinned, tapping a finger against them.

"One day these are coming off, don't care what the leaders say."

"Hooyah to that." he said, raising a fist and looking back towards the clouds. Something cold and wet touched his fingers and he jerked them back, only to find that Chambers had filled his empty hand with a bottle of ice water. "Thanks, Chambers."

"We've killed aliens together. Let's stop using family names, John."

"I _am _your superior in the chain of command." he pulled off the bottle's cap and took a deep drink. It relieved his parched throat like a massage after workout. He smacked his lips and raised the plastic vessel. "Prime quality water."

She chuckled and sat down next to him, cross-legged with her back straight. They said nothing for a while, savoring the solitude and quiet. Below them the camp was bustling with activity of all sorts as men marched and officers shouted. Nobody ventured onto the roof of building three though, they had quickly understood that it was RIG territory. Throwing five screechers down the stairwell, bloodied and battered, had only proved their point.

'"How you doing?" she asked.

"I'm fine." He frowned and looked away, one finger running over the metal nodes on his knuckles.

"You know what I mean." Kelly edged closer to the side of the building and looked down at the ground hundreds of feet below. John bit back a warning, he had seen her perform spectacular gymnastics at altitudes that would have made _him_ queasy. No height could intimidate her.

"I wish she could be here, fighting with us. She might even have been in our squad." John sighed explosively. He missed his sister all the time, with her serious but protective demeanor. He could remember the moments when her façade would break and real smiles would cross her face. Damn the Citadel.

"She'd be proud of you, of what we are doing." Chambers leaned back and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm proud of what y-we're doing. A chance to finally avenge all the dead..." She trailed off.

John nodded and gazed up into the beautiful sky. She was right of course, what they were doing was good, it was right and Jane would have been proud of him. They lapsed into silence, watching the might winds push clouds across the sky.

* * *

The table rattled and sent a few laser pointers raining down on the floor with a clatter. A light blanket of dust settled on the map and surrounding turians. General Hydril swiped at the annoying particles and glared down at the holomap. He tapped a finger onto a bold red line. "We were right to expect them to land here in the case of an invasion. That was an excellent call, Commander Desolas."

"Thank you, sir." Said the Commander, puffing out his chest proudly.

Hydril nodded and scratched a mandible thoughtfully. He had expected a boring few months when he was assigned to Morag. "Colonel Drik, the armored column was annihilated, correct? I believe that in the last report they were unsure if any had survived."

Another Turian stepped forward, his mandibles twitched nervously and his eyes were downcast. Black and red paint covered most of his face. Hydril would have given him a slap on the shoulder if he could. Despite a tactical failure and the enormous pressure it had put on him, Colonel Drik still stood strong and in control of his emotions. "That is correct General. None survived. From the garbled report we received before their...deaths, we concluded that the enemy used some sort of armored mech, similar to them but bigger."

"Armored mechs? That is both impractical and improbable." scoffed a scarred turian besides Hydril. He swiped at a not so imaginary speck of dust on his shoulder and stepped forward. "Tanks have always been superior. We sent the best men in the garrison, they would have crushed mechs."

"They didn't. This is all the intel we have at the moment so we're going to stick to it." snapped Hydril. He tapped a command on his omni-tool and the map zoomed in nearer to the red line. "This." He swiped his finger in a circle around a cluster of buildings, the red line and a range of tall dunes. A growl escaped his throat. "Is the hot zone. It appears as if the main part of their forces landed here. Any reports?" Hopefully something good.

"Yes sir." said a breathless captain. He pulled up some notes on his omni-tool while his aid stood ready. "The front line is holding. There have been very few sighting except for shuttles going down and the occasionally shadow as they scout around near our lines. As we suspected, the comm station nearest to the western part of the front line was destroyed. No guards report having seen movement and they all say that everybody was awake." He paused and glanced at Hydril who waved an impatient claw. "We lost three scout teams, however one was able to get close enough to get a few pictures of their installation."

Three images appeared on screen and Hydril leaned forward eagerly. They were grainy and billows of sand obscured most of the scenery but they could clearly make out lines of men piling up debris and large metal crates around the three tall buildings.

"So they're fortifying the miners housing. Any reports on the inhabitants?"

"Yes." Said the Captain. The officers broke into furious whispers. Hydril swiped a hand at them again and glared. Where was there turian discipline? Still, he hadn't expected that, nobody had.

"Recent events would lead us to believe that they are not the merciful type." said Hydril.

"They released half the population and told the civilians the other half would be released in two weeks." said the Captain.

"They're keeping them as a shield! To let them fortify. We must bomb it now!" said the old turian with a fierce scowl on his face.

"And risk the deaths of hundreds of workers? I don't think so!" retorted Colonel Drik.

"You should be used to casualties by now." sneered Jerol, the old Commander.

Hydril slammed his fist down on the table and glared at him. Jerol was an old, old friend, but age hadn't made him a better turian. Far from it. "Be silent Jerol."

"B-"

"Silence!" snarled Hydril. He turned to the rest of the officers. "Victory at any cost, it is our adage. But their air presence is strong. It would be wasteful."

He turned towards the disgraced colonel and waved a hand towards the door. "Colonel Drik I am going to put you in command of Batallion 505. You will have one week to plan a defense of the main city, should the line break you will be the final barrier against the tide." _In other words, you're getting the backwater assignement, _Went unsaid. It was the proper turian way and Drik would take his punishment with pride. Loosing so many tanks would be a great stain on his name. This punishment had worked since the days of his forefathers and he wouldn't change it now.

Colonel Drik stiffened. His twitching ceased. With a sharp salute he turned around and marched out of the room, his back straight and his will unbent. Hydril sighed, he would have made a damn fine General one day. Better than Jerol.

"So, about their air power." he said.

A thin female stepped forward and scratched at a burn mark on her cheek. Analina was the air force commander on Morag and had fought in more air battles with batarians than any other turian alive. "Limited. They have fast and extremely agile fighters but me and my team have studied their actions in the past day and we have concluded that they are either holding back or are just unable to ferry large amounts of fighters."

"Very well. Any news from the fleet?"

Analina nodded sharply. "Yes, they are coming at full speed, however they are reporting multiple invasions on various key planets. They are having to divide their forces until other fleets can converge on this sector."

"Damn..." Hydril shook his head. "We'll hold on until they come, these aliens aren't gonna stop the Turian army. They won't have it as easy as they did with the colonies."

"That they won't." Hissed Analina in a venomous voice.

* * *

The plaza was filled with men. They had clustered together strategically, leaving ten meters in between every group to minimize artillery damage should it land in their midst. Contrary to many crowds this one was absolutely silent. The only sounds came from the far off echo of gunfire and the occasional jet as it tore the skies above them in two.

John stood near the edge with the rest of Locust team, next to building three. He had dragged himself down from their rooftop haunt to watch the proceedings. Every RIG had too, even if they had been briefed before the grunts.

Finally the men in command of the operations on Morag stepped onto a platform held up by four projects. He cleared his throat and saluted to the army. Every man snapped to attention and returned the salute sharply.

"At ease." called General McKillen. He pulled out a sheaf of paper from a folder. The man was as old fashioned as an extremist conservative. "We have orders from the High Commander himself." many soldiers leaned forward at those words. John just shook his head. "He wants this planet taken, and taken fast! The resistence these Council scums bring against us in unacceptable!" he smacked his chest. "I want every man here to be ready, in three days time we break through their lines and take the city!"

The crowd roared its approval as McKillen stepped down from his podium and another officer took a stand. Orders were called and information handed out. John and the rest of Locust team quickly eclipsed themselves from the procedure. They already knew their orders.

"Do you think they'll be tough fighting in the city?" Asked Williams as they trudged up the stairs.

"Damned if I know, I guess so. Look at Stalingrad." said Chambers with a shrug.

"That was humans against humans, Chambers. We don't know what these freaks are thinking." replied Williams.

"They might think different but I doubt they're gonna any less determined than us when we hit their cities." said John. He popped the top off a bottle of water and took a long gulp. "Hey, Anderson, are the techies going to take a look at my suit eventually?" That suit was his lifeline in the field, damned if he'd let it go to ruin.

"Soon." said Anderson. Their captain didn't look up and John didn't insist. Anderson was deep in thought, either planning or plotting.

"Coming back to the city." said Williams. John rolled his eyes and groaned. "I don't think they'll resist all that much, they're military minded. They'll see defeat and acknowledge it. At least we won't lose many of the poor buggers down there."

"Williams these are the damned people who nuked earth with a meteorite when they began to loose. Do you really think they're gonna give up on a planet they actually own?" said John.

"Hm...good point. Well at least they deserve what they're getting served right now." she nodded firmly and tapped her knuckles on her breastplate.

"Hooyah." said James in a low voice. He toyed with his pistol and looking through the gaps in the walls towards the horizon.

John grinned. "Ready to get into the thick of it James?" he couldn't blame the man, he had been waiting for the real fighting since he had passed the final RIG tests. Just the thought of it made a wide grin spread across his face.

"Hell yeah I am. Been waiting for this all my life. Don'tcha remember those shows they'd pass when we were kids? Damn did those get me dreamin'. An' here I am now, doing what Captain Vindic Ativo was doing." Replied James.

The team laughed. John punched James in the shoulder and grinned, it felt good to think about those old days, to joke about and drop the mask for a while.

* * *

The fighting started in a serious way, seventy hours after McKillen's announcement in outpost B. In the dawns small hours the forces had crept up onto the weaker western front, away from the nearby mining buildings and towards the refinement facilities on the other side of the town.

The turians had been unprepared for an assault and it had taken them precious minutes to prepare for the onslaught. By the time the guards had woken garrisons and the trenches were filled with turians it was too late.

Everything was a confused mass of flailing bodies, explosions and gunfire. All around him grenades were going off with bright flashes. Blood covered the ground. John darted beneath a turians stab and aimed a crushing blow at his chest. The armor took the brunt of his augmented punch but it still sent the turian flying backwards. He grinned and leapt forward, his fist curled into a muderous force.

He didn't have time to finish the turian off. A towering Project came thundering out of the chaos. It ran past the down alien without a look, but its heavy metal boot caught the end of the aliens skull, pulping most of its brain. With one last jerk it fell still.

John's ears were full of radio chatter. Men screaming for medics, officers calling orders and other RIG members spotting and reporting vital information with cold blooded calm. It hit him like a storm and filled his thoughts with a discordant buzz.

He grabbed his rifle from where he had dropped it and pulled a bead on an enemy creeping up behind a Screecher. Two quick pulls of the trigger and the alien stumbled and fell. He had no time to rejoice, or savor the kill. Another turian charged at him with a wicked looking knife. John took a deep breath and felt his heartbeat slow. A flick of his wrist and a blade slid out of his forearm. He leapt forward with a roar. This was why he was here.

But he never had a chance to use it. Anderson leapt out of a knot of fighters, his armor covered in blood. He punched the turians head and popped it, spraying brain and skull pieces everywhere. He pointed at John. "Come on Shepard, we're moving out of here, the grunts have it in hand!"

"Where too boss?" said James.

"They're putting up artillery two clicks from here, we gotta stop them before they can start pounding our troops." Anderson shot a turian charging out of the trenches and narrowly avoided a spray of gunfire. It caught a soldier behind him in the chest, punching through his armor and tossing him to the ground.

John grit his teeth and clambered over a pile of bodies. He knelt down besides the dying soldier. His arms were jerking about erratically and blood was spurting out of the bullet holes. He grabbed one hand and clasped it tightly. 'You're gonna be fine soldier.'

"Ain't..." Said the man in a thick accent. "Ye'll call my family aye?"

John grimaced and looked away, he wasn't sure he'd even be back on earth any time soon. But he couldn't let him die like that. "You got it." He rapped his knuckles on the mans chest plate as the dying soldier took a few more breaths, shuddered and lay still.

He grabbed the dog tags from a hook on his side and got back up. The rest of the team was assembling. "Let's go John, no time for pussying about!" yelled Anderson.

John nodded and ran back to them. They didn't understand, who was the dead sergeant leaving behind to mourn? Whose Jane was he? He smacked the dog tags to a magnetic strap and pushed the thoughts of out his mind, crushing them ruthlessly. They had guns to blow up.

On Andersons order the team simulatneously engaged their cloaking systems and slipped through enemy lines like ghosts. "No shooting. Stay low." snapped Anderson as they crawled under a thick layer of electrified wire. John was last, as he crawled beneath it a Turian came running across the lines. He froze and watched him get closer and closer to his head. If he moved now he'd be seen. He curled his hands into fists and stared up at him, his finger hovering over his wristblade.

"Don't move I'll get him if I have too." murmured Williams. His HUD outlined her shape in a blow glow, kneeling fifty feet away.

He didn't answer. The turian sprinted past him, his feet flying only a few inches over his head. John sighed explosively and joined up with the rest of the team. His suit hadn't been fixed and he could feel the invasive heat crawling its way through the ventilation system. He'd be sweating buckets soon.

They made their way across the sand dunes relatively unopposed, only stopping once to avoid a troop convoy headed for the front. Finally the cannon fire got louder as they got nearer to the battery. The ground was shuddering beneath John's feet, it made his teeth rattle with the reverberations.

"Over the next hill, stand ready." Said Anderson.

"Why didn't the jets fuck these up themselves?" asked James. "This is loco, we should be out there fighting!"

"Can it you dumbass." said Williams. She peeked over the hill and ducked back down again. "They're getting hit too hard by AA fire to go this deep. Come take a look James, where ya' gonna put the explosives?"

John crawled up behind James and got a facefull of sand. With a muffled curse he swiped it off his mask and peeked down into the small valley. It was bustling with activity. At least a hundred turians scurried around like ants, their orders and noise muffled by the incessant thump and roar of cannons. At least fifteen of them had been carefully clustered together with a ring of guards around them. They were big beasts, at least thirty feet tall.

James tapped the edge of his mask thoughtfully. "I'm thinking a few charges in the middle and the rest arrayed on the ammunition bags." he nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."

"Okay y'all are with me. Chambers you're on overwatch, keep 'em off our back if the shit hits the fan." said Anderson. He rolled over the hill and began to crawl down.

"You got it sir." said Chambers.

John followed Anderson, thanking whatever gods existed for the hardpacked soil that had replaced the sand dunes. They would have been pathetically easy to see. He was halfway down the hill when his cloak battery suddenly dropped by half. Every muscle in his body froze.

"Sir." he said.

"Shut up, John." replied Anderson.

"I got a suit malfunction, cloak battery just dropped by half." said John. A sick feeling rose in his stomach, like the first time he had leapt off a ship from ten clicks up. This wasn't good at all.

In front of him, Anderson paused and looked over his shoulder. "Damn...Okay, Williams you watch him. See anything fucking up and you warn us. Then I want you John to haul ass over to those rocks and stay put. How long you got?"

"Ten minutes."

"I got your back, John." said Williams in a tense voice. She was probably as nervous as him, both had become good friends.

"Chambers, you cover him if anything happens." added Anderson.

"You got it." came the terse reply.

They moved on, now an aura of unease hovered around them like a thick, suffocating cloak. John cursed under his breath, his suit was breaking down and the ventilation system was only making things worse. He clawed at the dirt and pulled himself even closer to the turian guards. Beads of sweat trickled down across his face and into his eyes. He couldn't reach them, wipe them away.

"Allright. Williams you branch off and go in to the left. John you're with me and James you're on your own." said Anderson. He got up and slid past the nearest guard like a ninja. John followed him and soon they were amidst the organized turian chaos, narrowly avoiding crew members as they edged nearer to the closest ammo depot.

It didn't take long to set the charges in their sector. Soon they were all pulling back out. "Good job." said Anderson. "Back to the hill the-"

"John your cloak!" said Williams just as a foe behind them shouted in alarm. John spun around, vaguely noticing that he could see his body now. He was facing a turian was his gun leveled at his face. His first shots pinged off John's shields. Everything slowed down for Shepard, he could distinctly see the turians scowl. It felt like it went on for an age. Then there was a crack and its held jerked to the side with a new hole in it.

"Run!" shouted Anderson.

They all turned around and broke into a dead sprint, tearing up the hill like speeding jaguars. Behind them the turians were giving it their all. Mass rounds slammed into the dirt around them and pinged off their shields. John was the last man in the group, he had barely leapt over the crest of the hill that James hit the trigger.

There was a brilliant flash and the world shook like on judgement day. Everything turned white then slowly faded back to normal. Dust and debris rained down upon the shaken squad, clinking on their armor and burning holes into the ground.

"Damn." Said John. "That was close."

* * *

The stealth ship had been faster than the turian fleet, much faster. It had also been closer, guided by the century old instincts of its commander. Yara Tak was a SPECTRE, one of the oldest ones. She was also part of the deadliest asari commando unit in the galaxy. Maybe even the deadliest military force.

She paced the bridge as they slipped past the few visible humans ships like a ghost. Her ship was small enough to avoid detection, even from the advanced scanners installed on their foes vessels. She tapped her comm. "Lilia, how is the team?"

Her second in command answered briskly. "We're good to go, when we hit the ground, we'll hit the humans. No problem."

"Excellent." said Yara. She'd once enjoyed the Lilia's company in an intimate fashion, centuries ago. She had grown out of the need for affection and bodily pleasure long ago, they all had. Her gaze wandered across the bridge. Everything was pale or dark blue, casting wondrous shadows and covering the whole inside of the ship in an ethereal blue glow.

She took a deep breath and knelt on her podium, a deep breath and her mind cleared. Another and her body relaxed, her worries fading away. The crew didn't even glance her way, all were asari of course, they knew how their captain operated.

The ship landed among the towering spires of Mine City Four, where a small contingent of turians waited to greet them. Yara felt them from the bridge and sighed. The humans should have invaded an asari planet, annihilating them would have been so much simpler.

She stepped out of the ship a few minutes later, wearing the unobtrusive commando outfit. Before her stood a turian with red markings on his face, he was middle-aged. She gave him a quick, analytical look. He was nervous and under a lot of strain, but stood straight and proud. He would be competent enough. Her study over she glanced around their landing zone.

Everything had been repurposed to turn the plaza into an open air fortress. Gun positions at every street corner providing layered killzones. Razor and barbed wire along with crates piled high like fruit on a feast day. They even had a few tanks trundling by in the next street.

"You have entrenched this position well." she said without preamble.

The turian nodded once. "Yes. This is the inner core of our defenses, near the refineries.". The ground trembled and far away Yara saw a small cloud of smoke rise high into the sky. She frowned.

"What is the current situation?" she asked.

The turian motioned for her to follow him. A quick signal to her team and they spread out, inspecting the defenses. They would work while she got an update. Her commando's skill was unsurpassed.

She and the commander entered a derelict apartment building. Everything was eerily quiet except for the buzz of a generator and the occasional ensign rushing by. Finally they entered a spartan room with a desk and four chairs as well as some communications equipment.

"My office. Sit down." said the turian. He took a seat behind the desk. "I am Colonel Drik, leader of the city defenses."

Yara stood with her arms crossed. "The situation?"

"...Yes." he tapped something on his keyboard and a map of the city and outlying areas popped up.

"The aliens are pushing from their outpost towards the city and towards the mines from here and here." Two red dots appeared. "The mines are holding by the city defense lines are crumbling, I estimate that they will arrive to the city itself in fifteen hours. The time to wipe out the remaining defense forces and mop up any resistance. However, intelligence reports that they suffered heavy casualties once the initial surprise wore off. It will work to our advantage in this war of attrition."

"Anything I should know about these humans?" asked Yara.

"So thats what the council is calling them? First I hear of it." said Drik with a grunt. "Anyway, yeah. Plenty. Here's the basics." he sighed and leaned back in his hard backed chair. "The humans are ruthless as I'm sure you know. But not only are they ruthless, these bastards are smart and adaptable."

Yara finally took a seat, they were getting to the interesting part. She steepled her fingers and stared straight into his eyes. The tactic was useless with turians, they always held eye-contact. But even turian eyes and faces twitched and moved. Enough to read them like an open book.

"I've been following their actions. They don't seem to follow any set strategy or practiced movements. They were preparing one way before our..." He grimaced. "Failed tank offensive. But once that happened they had completely changed their defensive layout, nothing similar. Not only that but we believe that they were warned from one of our own listening posts."

"Traitors?" Said Yara an eyebrow rising. That would be a first.

"No, infiltrators." growled Drik. "We think they have some sort of advanced attack group simi-"

The door banged open and a tired looking soldier ran over to Drik. "What is it soldier?" snapped the colonel with a furious glare. The soldier tramped over to him with drooping shoulders.

"Sir! The enemy infiltrated and sabotaged the main artillery batteries." he saluted and walked out of the room, his eyes lingering on Yara. She stared back at him until her averted his eyes. With a sniff, Yara turned back to Drik. This colonel had potential, for a turian.

"Damn..." Drik rubbed his knuckles against his forehead. "That's what I was gonna say. I think they have something similar to your group. Some secret commandos to go along with their army and hulking living tanks."

Yara tapped her fists together and grinned. Perhaps it would be challenging. "That's why we are here, Colonel Drik."

* * *

**The Hero named Villan: **Perhaps, but there will not be any non-cannon species in this story.

**Stormpath: **Not everything is going to make absolute sense. Much like laser noises in Starwars while engaged in a spacefight, some things here will not happen exactly like they would in real life. Maybe the meteorite broke up and hit earth in various spots? I know not, but humanity _did _survive!

**MyMazeMan: **It _could _happen. I'm not revealing anything yet, though. *wink*

**Lachdannen: **Thanks again for the great review.

**Mr Beaver Buttington: **Not really, I'm in the process of drawing something similar to their armor.

**M.B Liddle: **Thanks to you too. I await your next chapter impatiently.

**Drkeo: **They created their tech from cannibalized turian ships and tech. As for one-sided, well, I don't think so. However, that is your own opinion.

**Kebarton: **I wasn't sure, I probably will add some though.

**Sherwood374: **When your world is crumbling around you and you are focused on revenge, you have more important things to work on that cybernetic eyes for every person in your population. Especially with other easy fixes.

_Thanks for reading guys! Your reviews, favorites and follows really encourage me. Can we breach the 200 review limit before chapter nine? I think we can! Enjoy the story._


	9. The face of war

**Chapter 9: The face of war**

_A/N_

_Thanks to all those who have review, followed and favorited. It means a lot._

* * *

John laughed. It felt good to smile again. He tossed the datapad to Chambers and leaned back on his pack. It was hard and uncomfortable, with sharp edges jabbing his skull. It felt like heaven after two days without rest.

"Check it out, Kelly." he said with a snort.

"What's this?" She asked raising an eyebrow and flipping the datapad over. "Some news report? I thought we didn't even have that on earth anymore."

John kicked her foot and laced his fingers behind his head. "It's the Council's extranet, read it." he watched her as she browsed the story. Perhaps when they got back to earth he would ask her out, bring her to the small place on the surface where the grass was still green and the water hadn't turned into a disgusting mix of radioactive waste and mud.

She burst out laughing and tossed it to James. "These aliens are retarded." She grinned, her white teeth flashing in the dim light. "Since when do we have horns and eyes of fire?!"

"That ain't the best part." John forestalled her with a raised finger. The datapad passed through the Locust squad and the few grunts gathered around the fringes. Laughs and grins were breaking out across weary and dust covered faces. John eyed the men and women and relaxed for the first time in what felt like weeks. No discipline of rules now. "Hear this one." the small crowd turned towards James. "I quote; Without a doubt, this new alien species is sent by the goddess to punish us for our sins. We must pray that she removes this blight from our galaxy."

The room echoed with laughter, desperate joy motivated by the knowledge that they could all be dead the day after. "Sounds like some religious bull you hear at home." yelled a grunt.

"Hey shut up, my family is religious!" bellowed a thick-set soldier from the back of the room. Everything broke down into a cluster of debates and arguments while Locust squad edged together, unconsciously shutting off the rest of the room from their social circle. John shook his head, it never changed. In the end, RIG and footsoldiers were just too different.

"Feels good to laugh a bit." grunted James.

"Won't last." said Williams. She slid a small piece of cloth down the cannon of her gun.

"Hey, glass half-full Williams." John patted her shoulder and lay back down, stretching his legs tiredly. "You should get some sleep. Fighting isn't going to be any easier tomorrow." They'd been doing incursions and ambushes for days without respite. The turians kept learning and the job kept getting tougher.

The soldiers took example on the RIG team and filled the room with snores and the occasional sniffle. Even the toughest humanity could give missed home, loved ones. It was a vicious, vicious war thought John as a grey haze settled over his eyes.

It took a moment for him to realize that it wasn't fatigue laying its cloak over him like a caring mother. A sharp smell permeated the air. Gas! He rolled over and grabbed his helmet, sliding it on in one smooth motion. John leapt up and turned on his voice amplificators. "Gas attack!" he roared. It burned the back of his throat.

The whole room exploded into a frenzy of frantic action as soldiers jumped up and grabbed their equipment. A few were too dazed to slip on their helmets and fell to the ground, clutching their throats as their last breaths rattled out of them. "Defensive positions, go, go, go!" yelled John. He picked up his gun and grabbed Kelly's arm, pulling her towards the door.

How had the enemy reached them with a gas attack? What happened to the sentries? He leapt over the body of the grunt he had seen laughing over the datapad and ignored the small pang of anger. Death wasn't rare, you got used to it.

"Squad report!" said Anderson. He vaulted over a broken piece of cement, spraying John with fragments. They pinged off his armor, as harmless as rain.

"All present." replied John after a moment. He swung his gun back and forth over the improvised barricade, peering into the darkness with hawk-like eyes. Their camp was set up in a two story building in the fringes of the city. They had repurposed the inside into improvised barracks and scattered the land around it with mines and pillboxes.

Officers came rushing out of the second level and took over the grunts, ordering them into position. John sighed in relief, the head hadn't been cut off.

"I just did a perimeter check. All sentries are dead. No traps triggered." Anderson knelt next to John and latched his gun to his waist, tapping a few commands into his omni-tool.

John clutched his gun tightly and knelt against a thick piece of steel. The cold seeped through his suit, this time it adapted quickly, regulating the temperature to a homogenous fifteen celsius. Anderson had made sure to fix it after the artillery incident.

"Special forces." said Williams, her voice dripping with anticipation.

"You got it. We're gonna hunt them down and kill every last one of them." Anderson slapped his breastplate.

"Hooyah to that." John jumped up and vaulted over the barricade. The rest of the team followed and soon the hungry streets swallowed them in their dark robes of shadow. A parting good luck wish from an officer and they were on their own in the blasted ruins of Mine City Four, with as only companion an enemy _nearly_ as good as them.

"Time to hunt." said James. Or be hunted. John grimaced and shook his head. He wasn't going there.

* * *

A ghostly wind wound through the city spires, howling like a pack of wolves as it bathed John in wave after wave of dust. There was nothing more creepy than an abandoned city, especially at night. Pebbles ground and crunched under his feet, unnaturally loud.

He swung his gun upwards and inspected the maintenance decks above them with a frown. "They could be anywhere."

"Quiet!" hissed Anderson.

Silence fell back over the group as they made their way into a wider road. A few hovercars were haphazardly parked along the motorway but there were still no signs of life. Anderson signaled the team and they all kneeled down next to a jet black vehicle.

"Been getting reports from Outpost B. We know the turians have special forces, but they're fast acting strike forces. Nothing so cloak and dagger. Only other option is STG and Asari Commando units." said Anderson. He tapped a command into his wrist computer and a map popped up on their HUDs. "No idea how many of them, either. The red dot is us. Any ideas?"

Chambers spoke up. "They could be waiting for us in that nearby plaza. That's what I'd do. Big and open."

"Then that's where we're going. John you take point." Anderson rose and the team followed. John's armor scraped along the side of the hovercar and a shiver ran down his back as it echoed down the street like a baby's wail. The planets five moons hung lover over the horizon and stars filled the sky, but they did little more than bathe the whole city in an unreal grey light.

"Aye sir." He replied. How lucky, he'd be any sharpshooters first target. John's gaze ran over the empty streets, looking for cover and hunting for even a hint of movement. He was on full alert, his body a mass of coiled muscles, eyeing every corner and shadow. If their information on the Asari Commando's was good, then they were probably facing aliens with hundreds of years of fighting experience an impressive biotics. STG would only be marginally easier.

The plaza was immense. Its only ornament, a huge statue of a turian with a gun in the middle. Whatever turian designer made this certainly didn't have a festive mindset. He had paved the rest of the plaza with huge, black slabs of marble.

"We should probably stay near the buildings, boss." said James.

"No. We're drawing the bastards out." Anderson jabbed a finger forwards.

With a low voiced oath, John moved towards the statue. Sweat dribbled down his back to fast for his suit to remove and his mouth had gone dry. He hadn't signed up to be a shooting target for citadel scum. The statue seemed to mock him from its perch, looking down at him arrogantly.

They had nearly reached the pedestal when he froze. The fucking statue was their enemies downfall. His hands curled around the gun and it groaned under the strain. _No sudden movements, John._ Anderson was last in line. He stood stock still and something shimmered behind him. He saw it all because of how damn reflective the rock was. "Anderson's possessed!" he yelled through comms.

A gust of wind brought a new cloud of dust swirling around them and John easily spotted the vague outline of a cloaked individual a few feet behind Anderson. Without hesitating he opened fire, pouring out a magazine on the helpless and certainly surprised target. Shields flashed and the cloaking sputtered and failed.

His gun thumped against his shoulder with brutal force, he bared his teeth as slug after slug shattered shields, armor and bone. "Cease fire!" he called, forcing his finger off the trigger. The rest of the team abruptly halted their wave of death. "Chambers, roofs." Anderson crumpled to the floor and Williams rushed forward with a strangled cry.

John ran over to the asari commando. The bullets had torn away at her armor and blown off half her helmet. He knelt beside her and shook his head, she was still breathing. Blue blood bubbled around her lips and she looked up at him with a hateful expression. "This isn't over." she hissed. He pressed his pistol to her temple and pulled the trigger.

"It is for you, bitch." he said in a grim voice, then he turned back towards Anderson. He was lying on the ground, unmoving. "Status."

Williams looked up and shook her head. Her voice was full of tightly controlled fury when she spoke. "He's dead. Suit says some sort of brain aneurism. You're in command now, sergeant."

"Damn." John rubbed his knuckles against his brow and closed his eyes for a moment. _Damn, damn, damn._ Andersons suit was already doing the necessary coverup work. He'd grieve when he was out of danger. "We need to get into cover. Hunt down these bastards, for Anderson."

"Aye aye sarge." growled James.

The plaza remained empty and silent when they stepped out of it, the only traces of an encounter were the small porous crater and nearby asari corpse.

John led them to a house and kicked the door in, slamming the old-fashioned contraption against the wall with earth-shaking force. His mind was a tightly controlled furnace of boiling anger as he stormed up the steps, he almost wished that the civilians had stayed in their home just so he could vent his overloaded emotions.

"We're getting on the roofs and making a sweep. If we find nothing then we go back to base and think up a new plan." he said when they gathered beneath the roof.

"What do we tell the grunts?" asked Williams. Her voice was thick. She and Anderson had been close friends for a long time. John sighed, he wished he could comfort her. Now wasn't the time.

"Anderson went on a solo scouting mission."

"Bitches. I'm gonna rip 'em apart." growled James, slamming a fist against the wall.

"You'll get your chance. No-"

A high-pitched scream and en explosion cut John off. The house bucked and attic windows exploded into showers of glass. John was hit with the force of a stampeding rhino and smashed into a wall, his vision turning white. By the time his eyes readjusted, the rest of the team was getting to their feet around him. He groped his way to the attic window and looked out onto the plaza.

The statue crumbled to the ground, it looked like a majestic lion proudly facing his final moments. Two human fighters circles low above the rooftops while the wreckage of a turian vessel burned in a crater. He couldn't see any pilot trying to escape and flames engulged the cockpit in metal-melting heat. Good. It wouldn't avenge Anderson, but it was a start.

"I don't think the Asari will stay here with an air presence." said Chambers, walking up beside him.

"Yeah...And I don't think we want to stay around here anyway." James added, pointing towards the far end of the plaza. Two turian tanks and at least three dozen soldiers marched in an organized line towards human front lines. The fighters quickly veered away and tore off into the distance, their noise and reactors fading away.

"They'll report the turians. We better move, looks like a fight's on its way." said John with a heavy sigh. He led them out of the building through a backdoor and broke into a quick jog, the faster they left, the better. Anderson had been a great man, a great commander. Chambers ran up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be avenged, John."

* * *

Killzones filled with corpses and thick with fear had replaced eerily quiet roads. To walk in the streets by the light of day meant certain death for both turian and human. Colonel Drik was well aware of the dangers, but he could _not _let his men die so easily.**  
**

"You can't sir, your death would cripple our defences!" shouted his helpless second in command over comms.

Drik squinted through the irritating dust and tried to make out the wounded turian in the middle of the avenue. "I'm not leaving one of our soldiers to die like that. You can't do a damn thing about it!" he snapped in a terse voice. He heard a crack, the sound that many turians had begun to fear since the ferocious fighting had erupted in the city. A human sniper.

Someone called for a medic farther down the street and bowed his head. Another brave soul sent to the Spirits by the terrifyingly accurate humans. They never wasted one shot Drik had come to realize that they could even dodge airstrikes after the fifth bombing run had given them nothing but more casualties.

"Drik...please." said Varron. "Spirits know how many men we'll lose without you."

Drik nearly snapped at him, reprimanded him for his breech of conduct. But he bit his tongue and clicked off the comms. Varron was a good man, he didn't deserve to be treated so rashly. The sun was at its zenith and there was no shade to hide in. Nothing but the pile of rubble behind which he was curled.

"Alright Drik...You can do this. Fast in, fast out." He took a deep breath and jumped up, spraying fire down range as he sprinted towards the wounded soldiers. His heart felt like it was going to rip his chest apart and adrenaline flowed freely through his veins. It felt like he was flying, soaring. It all came to an abrupt halt when he heard the sniper fire again. The wounded soldier jerked once and went still.

"Damn!" cursed Drik. He leapt forward and stretched out as far as he could go, his eyes on the alley across the road. He made it, barely. A few seconds later and the bullet that now nestled in two feet of steel would have found his madly pumping heart. In the middle of the road, a small bird landed on the corpse and tried to peck at the soldiers eyes.

With a defiant shout, Drik took aim and knocked the bird of its pedestal in an explosion of feathers. Nobody would desecrate his soldiers, not even nature. He clicked the comms back on and Varron's frantic voice filled his head once again.

"Did anyone see the Colonel go down? Di-"

"Colonel Drik here, unhurt." he replied.

"Spirits! Did you get the wounded?"

"Negative, he was bait." replied Drik. He knew he had fucked up, those humans were vicious and smart. They set up traps that nobody ever expected and sprung them at the perfect moment every time.

"You mean, they left him alive just to get two of us?" said another officer in a disgusted voice.

"We aren't fighting geth or asari here, Luitenant Morkal." snapped Drik. "We're fighting crafty bastards with no hearts and war bent minds. They're not going to follow our honor code, they have no honor to base it off of."

"Aye sir." replied Morkal in a dull voice.

Drik raised his rifle and turned towards the dark alley. His omni-tool said that there was a brigade nearby, he would assist them and make his way back to the command center from there. He had to fight, it was the only way to regain his honor. If he died, then his family name would remain unstained.

* * *

Chambers slipped another hi-power round into the chamber and settled down for her next shot. Her helmet lay forgotten by her side and a gray shall hid her brilliant red hair from prying, turian eyes. She gazed through the lens at the corpse, a few hundred feet down the road and chewed on her lip. It had been a stupid decision to shoot the wounded turian first. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her.

One of the few RIGs not from Locust team tapped her foot and she rolled to the side then crawled to the back of the room, avoiding his gaze. A few moments passed in awkward silence, then the man took up her position.

Her shift at the gun over, Chambers curled up against the wall and pulled a tattered blanket around her for a modicum of comfort, even if it was only psychological. She closed her eyes and her mind wandered back to her chat with John the day before. Maybe she would ask him out when they got back to earth. She was sure he liked her.

They had all been sitting around a fire in the camp. Nobody had come to chat with them that night, the grunts had all heard about Anderson going on a solo mission but not many believed it. They left Locust to themselves and stayed in groups, chatting about children and women at home. Enjoying the brief moment of levity before being thrown back into the butchery.

John had been particularly downcast and sad. Kelly had walked over to him, nervous tension tight in her gut. Much to her surprise he hadn't objected when she sat next to him and put an arm around her shoulders. It felt nice to be so close to someone without the barrier of their armor, or the mental barrier of a combat situation. They had talked for hours about everything and by the time John fell asleep on her shoulder he had felt much better, she was sure of it.

Chambers drifted to sleep, the repetitive crack of the sniper rifle lulled her into a doze. It came from further and further away until it was nothing more but the drums of war in a bloody dream.

* * *

Gravel crunched beneath his feet, way too loud for his taste. A hundred meters away, lights lit up the surrounding buildings in a warm orange glow. It didn't end up doing much for their looks. Everything was the same. Grey or beige, industrial, identical. This city wasn't made to be pretty. John wanted to see one of those gleaming citadel species cities one day.

"Locust-A1, proceed to base with haste. Reinforcements are en route. Estimate twenty-minute for ground troops. Airforce will slow scouts. Out."

"Acknowledged, Command. Moving in."

John stood and crept along the wall, his gun raised. It was a beautiful weapon. Sleek and jet black with enough power to stall a Project for a few seconds. Only his aug's saved him from living the rest of his life with maimed arms each time he fired it.

The base was deadly quiet. No footsteps, no talk. Nothing. A small icon pinged in the corner of John's HUD and he smiled thinly. Radiation alert, just like home. He would love to see how the asari coped with an irradiated homeworld.

A bead of sweat trickled down his brow and John readjusted his grip on the X-96. A hundred rounds of the best ammo the military could produce against a dead base. It wouldn't be a problem. "Locust-A1. Move in. Localized radiation strike has taken out hostiles."

"Confirmed. Moving in." He shook his head and frowned. Command wouldn't understand. You never walked into a base like it was your home. But then, even he was replaceable, why would they care about his worries?

John leapt over the low wall and nearly landed on a turian. HIt had vivid red face paint and was clutching his throat. His mouth was open in a soundless scream. John gazed around the camp, his grip on the gun loosening. At least three dozen turians lay and sat, dead. A small eddie of dust swooped down among them, weaving its way up to John and disappearing.

"Damn..." he muttered. He stepped over the first body and picked his way through the camp slowly. His eyes never left the surrounding area and the gun never dropped. One finger rested against the trigger guard lightly, waiting for the slightest provocation to pull and blow an enemy away.

John grit his teeth and turned away when he saw two turians clutching each other. One of them, female if the files were correct, had burrowed her head beneath the arm of the other in a futile attempt to hide from the gasses. A few of them had got their helmets on and clutched rifles in their death grips. John ignored them.

He reached their command center quickly and slipped inside. The two turians clutching each other flashed in front of his eyes again and he winced, clenching them shut. He didn't need to see that, it was way to human. The inside of the base was as barren as the outside with barely any furniture and absolutely no decoration.

John paused next to a flashing datapad and picked it up curiously. It held a few messages and with a flick of his wrist he activated his HUD translators.

'24:09/TV: Nothing happening here, they're still hitting each other on the front. Don't worry.'

'24:11/BR: Just be careful, Trerr. I heard stories about them.'

'24:12/TV: Don't worry baby, we'll deal with them long before they can pose a throat to you all.'

'24:12/BR: I'm not worried about me.'

'24:13/TV: bera i love you'

'24:13/BR: Trerr, what's going on?'

'24:15/BR: trerr Answer me!'

John tossed it to the side with a snarl. It smashed against a wall and shattered, spraying glass onto the floor with a light tinkle. The only other noise in the whole damn base. Because everyone else was dead! John smacked himself on the side of his helmet and pushed on. They were freaks, aliens. Their emotions didn't fucking matter, they had killed billions of humans.

He made his way into the comm room and shoved a dead turian from the console. Undoubtedly he had tried and failed to send out a distress signal.

"Command, this is Locust-A1." he trailed off and released the transmit button.

"Locust-A1, report." came the cold reply.

"All hostiles eliminated. Downloading intel now." He tapped in a few commands to the console and passed his wristcomp over it. A buzz and a ding and John stepped away with a few terabytes of intel. He spun around and jogged out of the base. He studiously avoided the dead turian in the entry and the couple outside. Maybe if he ignored them, he'd forget them. Yeah right.

* * *

_210 reviews! I'm glad to announce that this story has passed both the 200 review cap and the fifty-thousand view milestone. I hope you will keep enjoying my story. Once again, sorry for the later update but I am currently revising chapter 2-6. I will be modifying the story a tad to add to the mysterious side, at the same time I am doing some style modifying._

_As usual, read, review, favorite or follow! Your input is both valuable and encouraging._

___I'm not answering the reviews I got, because you will all get your answers sooner or later! Worry not, I think most of you will be satisfied._

_Next chapter, we see our quarian friends again! Till then. :)_


	10. Meetings

**Chapter Ten: Meetings**

_A/N: Thanks to all the people who reviewed, favorited and followed. Also, special thanks to Jade Tatsu for revising this chapter!_

_As usual, reviews are answered below._

* * *

Despite their lackluster reputation, quarians certainly knew how to make good first impressions. Hundreds, if not thousands of ships littered the star system. They had been intelligently arranged to counter any exterior or interior threat. Despite the aged and sometimes shoddy state of the fleet it was still a sobering experience for Ronald Trump, diplomat and ambassador for humanity. He couldn't make an enemy out of these people. They would pose a significant threat to human plans.

He stood in the meeting room of the _Significant Accord_, one of the few diplomatic ships in the human fleet. A large bay window opened up on to space, offering him a pleasant view of the dying sun. Its light sharply outlined the single quarian liveship in the system.

He frowned and turned away from the sight. The diplomat ran everything he knew about the quarians through his head. The extranet had been an invaluable resource. They must have been truly desperate for humanities good-will if they were willing to part with such an advantage on their first meeting.

He glanced at his reflection in the glass conference table. Bare white face, milky eyes and a shot of dark red hair. His father's face had been covered in freckles, Ronald was fortunate enough to have avoided that.

"Ambassador, your guests are en route," said a synthetic voice in his ear.

"Very well, I will greet them personally. Have the welcoming group set up."

"It is already done, Ambassador. We are waiting only for you."

Ronald took an elevator down to the hangar levels and quickly found his place in the bustle of activity on the landing pads. The hangar was as dark as the rest of the ship. Ronald smiled, the shadows made it look better and more mysterious than industrial lighting anyway.

In front of him stood two rows of soldiers in full armor. To his sides were his aides, each one flanked by a Project.

"What is your prediction, sir?" asked Mikael, a young black-haired man with a scar running down the left side of his face like a fleshy river.

"They do not want to fight us but they certainly do not want to be seen as weak. They have lived through a similar situation to ours." He shrugged, "I don't think anything bad will come of this."

Mikael nodded and fell silent.

"Shuttle, twelve seconds," said the ship AI.

Ronald gave himself a once over. His plain black and red three-piece suit was unwrinkled. The decorations on his chest shown in the dim light and none of those pesky cybernetic implants were showing. He'd even managed to hide the ugly rad-marks on his throat with a tasteful collar.

The shuttle broke their protective shielding and landed. It was nothing like the blocky military ones that Ronald used. Probably a second-hand purchase, from the asari if the sleek lines were anything to go by. He glared at it.

"Ten'hut!" yelled the officer on deck. The soldiers snapped to attention, their guns pressed against their chests. With a hiss the shuttle doors slid open and four quarians stepped out. Two unarmed ones led the way while their guards brought up the rear, each one holding a large mass accelerated rifle.

Ronald eyed their intricate clothing with interest. Despite the trove of information on quarians, they hadn't found much that actually showed them in a good light. Perhaps he could glean some information about their way of thought during this meeting. They were certainly a strange people, living in beautiful shells with ramshackle homes.

They reached him and he put his hand out, keeping his face blank. "Greetings, I am Ambassador Ronald Trump for Humanity."

The male quarian stepped forward and shook his hand firmly. His eyes glowed brightly beneath his mask and his voice had a strange, husky accent. "Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya of the Migrant Fleet. I represent my people with Admiral Shala'Raan." He indicated the woman next to him.

Ronald extended the same gesture of greeting to her and swept his arms to his sides. It had just occurred to him that their masks would make this meeting all the more difficult. "These are my aids, Mikael Slavinask and Rachel Gremmel."

Greetings were repeated though Ronald caught the quarians looking at the Projects more than once. Admiral Raan was clasping and unclasping her hands. Perhaps it was a sign of nervousness among their people.

He broke the silence before it became awkward. "Please, we have prepared a room for a more comfortable meeting." He spun around and marched towards a door. It slid open and lead him out, followed by all quarians, his aids and the Projects.

"Ambassador?" Admiral Zorah drew next to him.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"I hope I do not come across as rude, but I am curious about the lighting in your ship? Does your species simply require very little light to see clearly?"

"That is correct, Admiral Zorah. Our species have adapted to our current situation. We no longer need a bright sun or good lighting to see clearly." Ronald bit the inside of his cheek. Damn, he'd almost let slip the reason. He swished a hand through his short hair and took a discrete breath. No more mistakes!

"Adapted to your current situation? I am not sure I understand," said Rael'Zorah.

"Here we are!" Ronald flicked a hand and an ornate door similar to twenty-first century design swung open. The meeting room itself was probably one of the most lavishly decorated rooms in the whole fleet. A thick red carpet covered the floor and muffled steps while the great bay windows offered an impeccable view, enhancing the feeling of greatness that permeated the room. From the ornate mosaic on the walls to the painting on the roof. All were survivors from before the Old Contact. Seeing such art always made Trump grin. His race was still capable of creating beautiful things.

"This art is...incredible, ambassador. Who is the creator?" said Admiral Raan. She walked over to one of the walls to inspect the spartan soldier depicted upon it. He was brandishing a spear and his shield was lifted to ward off a blow. It was an appropriate picture, Ronald had chosen it himself from the limited collection on Earth.

"It is a Spartan. A warrior from ancient times where sword and shield were still the weapons of war. They gained fame through a near mythical feat. Three-hundred of these soldiers held back thousands upon thousands of enemies, protecting the city-states of Greece, an old country from our homeworld." He sat in his high-backed chair while Rachel escorted Shala'Raan to hers and Mikael pulled back Rael'Zorah's.

"Three-hundred against thousands? They must have been formidable," said Rael in an interested tone of voice.

"Certainly. They are a role-model for our soldiers these days," Ronald said.

Rael'Zorag stiffened. He had caught the underlying intention. He propped his hands on the table and turned his full attention towards Ronald. "To business. First of all, the quarian people would like to insist that we have no conflict with humanity and we seek none."

Ronald nodded. He was starting to get warm. He always did when negotiations started. A small breeze traveled down his back and he barely suppressed a sigh of relief. Mikael had fixed the air-conditioning pack on the back of his chair. "We understand, Admiral. Our quarrel is not with the quarians. In fact, we believe a mutually beneficial agreement could be arranged between us."

"That is quite straightforward," said Raan, leaning forward. "I am sure you have your... reasons for attacking the Citadel but for us to associate ourselves with you would have extremely severe repercussions."

"If we knew the reasons for your attack, perhaps we could sympathize," added Rael'Zorah.

Ronald knit his eyebrows into a frown. Perhaps they were the ones who would have the easiest time understanding their plight. He nodded once and tapped a message into his wrist computer.

"Perhaps you are correct. However, here is not the time nor the place to discuss such things. While you may not truly trust us, I ask you to put your faith in me with this. Ask your questions but keep those queries for a more appropriate time."

Shala'Raan crossed her arms and Rael'Zorah sat back in his chair. Ronald eyed them both briefly, obviously the quarians relied on body language to some degree. It wasn't surprising with their masks.

"...Very well," said Raan. She pointed to the two towering Projects at the back of the room. "Your soldiers are much larger than you are, ambassador. Are you divided into different sub-species?"

Ronald put another discrete note into his wrist comp. They were rather blunt, a good thing when it came to politics. Nobody had time to play around.

He waved a dismissive hand towards them. "These are not soldiers, our soldiers are the ones you saw upon entering our ship. These are Projects."

"As in, an experiment?" asked Rael'Zorah.

"Of sorts. They passed the testing stage a few decades ago but the name stuck. It is a good one. They are rehabilitated prisoners," replied Ronald.

"Is... Is it not dangerous to trust convicts with such delicate tasks as these?" asked Raan. Rael'Zorah passed a hand down the side of his helmet and blew out a quick breath. Ronald hid a smirk behind his hand, Admiral Shala'Raan could be considerably heavy-handed at points. It would be amusing to see their other leaders if she was one of their more diplomatically inclined ones.

"There is no danger. We implant control ships in their brains. If they were to somehow bypass these, which is quite impossible, I assure you," he added quickly when they both glanced at the silent men. "They would only be capable of limited damage. Their hands have been removed and they are unable of repairing or removing their armor. Neither can they disappear from radar as tracking devices have been implanted in random spots on their bodies."

Shala'Raan covered her mouth with one hand and Rael'Zorah recoiled. "That is...barbaric!" he said.

Ronald frowned and clenched his fists in his lap, his jaw working to hold back sharp words. How could they say that? "These men were murderers, Admirals. Murder is the most abhorrent of crimes in human society. Instead of summary executions we put this trash to good use. There is nothing unethical about our actions."

"You do not seem to have a problem with murder from what I've seen," muttered Raan.

Ronald's face turned ever whiter than before and his lips formed a tight line. He stood up slowly, his fingers splayed on the sparkling table. The refraction stung his eyes. "I will pretend I did not hear those words, Admiral Raan, for you spoke out of ignorance. Perhaps this is not the ideal place to explain our situation." He licked his lips and turned up the air-conditioning. "For this reason, I extend an invitation to your admiralty and a delegation of your choice. An invitation to visit Earth, our homeworld. For now, you will be escorted off this ship. It was a… pleasure." It had been a mistake to invite them here first, they couldn't understand yet.

The two quarians got up and their guards relaxed significantly. Rael walked up to Ronald while the second admiral made her way to the door.

"Forgive her attitude, ambassador. She has never been one to take pleasure in violence, or see the justice in bloodletting."

Ronald took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face. "Of course, Admiral. I am sure she will soon change her mind." The admiral nodded and left the room with their second guard. Ronald finally unclenched his fists. His nails had nearly punched through his skin.

* * *

"Repeat," said John.

"Sniper squad surrounded by turian advance. Undetected. We are readying the forward push so I advise you to aim for these coordinates." A notification popped up on John's HUD and he nodded to the holographic man.

"Copy that captain. Appreciate the intel."

The hologram faded away, its meager light replaced by the ever present shadows. Nothing was ever really lit on Morag, be it the dust, a storm or the damned towers. John couldn't even get a glimpse of the sun. He clenched his fists and turned toward the rest of the squad, swallowing a bitter curse.

"We're pushing with the grunts. Gonna try and get Kelly and the guy from Vulture out of there." He pulled back his rifle's loading lever and checked the chamber. One gleaming bullet was firmly lodged inside, ready to embed itself into vulnerable turian flesh.

Williams rose from her seat and walked up to him, crossing her arms. He caught onto her mannerism quickly, she was irritated. You had to learn body language fast in the army, few people ever showed their faces and even then, goggles obscured their eyes.

"Problem, Williams?"

"Look John, we know that you and Chambers are close. I just wanna know that you've got your head screwed on straight for this one," she said in a diplomatic tone.

John bit his tongue and clasped his hands behind his back. He straightened and stared her down until she looked away. Damned if he'd let her insult his military discipline. "I think you know me better than that."

She muttered something under her breath and he leaned forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What was that?"

"Nothing, sir," she turned around abruptly and picked up her gun, clicking the safety off with a sharp movement. James shrugged from behind her and turned back to picking off crusted blood from his light machine gun with a small piece of wiring.

John shook his head. His body felt unusually tense and a sense of urgency kept buzzing around his head, urging him towards irrational decisions. Maybe Williams was right, maybe he was getting too emotionally involved with Chambers. He swiped a hand over his face as if to ward off the disturbing thoughts. "Let's suit up and see what we can do to help the main force."

He slipped on his mask and slapped a pistol to the magnetic belt around his waist. It worked like a charm, the familiar feel and weight at his hip released a surge of calm in his mind, bringing him back to his senses. Military training came to the fore, along with the words of Sergeant Rosefield. 'Fight for Humanity, for the fallen. Sacrifice everything for our cause!' He would shout as the recruits did push ups on agonizingly hot rock.

The three of them stepped out of their hideout and into the crowds of soldiers rushing two and fro. His worries were soon drowned out by the incessant noise surrounding him. Yet even in so hectic a time, John was able to navigate his way through the crowd with ease. Nobody stood in the way of a RIG. Especially three of them.

The team reached the front lines in good time. All was quiet, only the distant echo of sniper fire and the occasional explosion hinted at the ongoing combat, excluding and blast marks on the walls. A few soldiers guarded the walls, they didn't look away from the road when John approached.

"Situation?" He asked.

"Clear for now, we think they smelled our offensive and are preparing," said one soldier. John's HUD told him he was a corporal, Corporal Javier. A mere thought and he had the name and home bunker. He jotted down a mental note to remember the man should he survive the attack.

"Astute of you, corporal. Anything we should know before heading out?" He peered down the deserted street, zooming in on the lonely turian corpse a few dozen feet away. The xeno had been peppered with bullets. It made a grim smile flash across the RIGs face.

"Yeah." The man rose and pointed to the farther corner, it lit up on John and the rest of the team's HUDs. "We're pretty sure they set up explosives over there and have some men watching over it. They don't see us though, snipers back there." he jabbed a thumb towards a building surrounded by a multitude of soldiers. "Tell us they killed any watchers."

"Alright. Good luck on the offensive soldiers," said John to the men surrounding him. They all saluted. A shiver skittered down John's back like a cockroach would at home. It was strange to think that half of the men he had spoken too could very well be dead by the same time tomorrow.

"Move out," he said over the private comm.

"We got your back, John," said James. "Seems like you've got the blood of a leader of men in there somewhere," he added.

"Shut up." John flicked a button on his wrist and with a shimmer of refracted light his body faded out of sight. Behind him he heard the characteristic hiss and crackle of cloaks engaging. A lone leaf drifted down the deserted street and flittered along John's armor.

The followed the road. John's eyes ran over every flat surface and hole in the street, looking for any sign of movement. His heart beat quickly in his chest and the familiar rush of adrenaline made him feel light. He flicked his hand towards James across the road. Another gesture towards Williams and she was crawling up the wall like a spider.

"Tell us what you see, Williams."

He watched her blue outline jump from roof to roof with agility until a ledge blocked her from sight. John hunkered down with his rifle aiming towards the street corner. The urge to kill was rising, to strike at the turian scum, annihilate those that had stolen his family from him. Finally, after an interminable wait Williams reported.

"Five turians in a house with a good angle on the corner, some sort of explosive at the corner itself," she said coolly.

"Tripwire, laser?" asked James.

"Laser."

"Damn. Okay John, how about tossing a rock, and then Williams kicks their butt?"

"No." John frowned and looked up towards Williams position. "I'm going in with her. Toss the rock and stay back, James."

A heavy sigh. "Copy that, sir."

John leapt up on the wall. Tiny titanium hooks clutched at the weaker metal and he pulled himself up with ease, vaulting over the low parapet. He saw Williams crouching on the edge of the roof. With a few quick bounds he had joined her. She pointed out the targets without a sound and started crawling her way towards them.

"I'll take them from here, you toss in a grenade and spray from the roof window," he snapped. His eyes flicked over to James then back at the targets. They hadn't moved, one was still leaning on a wall, two watched the road and the remaining ones were playing some sort of stupid game. He shook his head. Had they been humans they might have survived their encounter. Now they were already dead.

"In position, ready to blow these shits to hell," said Williams. Shepard could hear the glee in her voice, he shook his head. One day it would get her killed.

"James, you're up." He rested his rifle on the parapet and aimed at the first watcher's head. His finger slipped from the trigger guard to the death dealer itself, curling around it like a snake ready to strike. His body thrummed with barely restrained energy.

The building next to his exploded into a mass of twisted metal and shrapnel, spraying the opposite wall with a deadly rain of steel. John stabilized his gun and opened fire, pouring lead into the first turian's head. It popped open and his gun fell from limp fingers. The others didn't have time to react before a grenade fell into their midst and exploded on impact, tossing two more against the wall, lifeless.

John could hear them shouting now, waving their guns around as they frantically sought out their aggressors. John grimaced as he opened fire again. They tore into one of the remaining turians and he fell to his knees, clutching his throat. The last one fell to a burst of fire from the rooftop.

"Clear them," snapped John. His muscles relaxed and a sudden nervous feeling clutched at his gut. He leapt up and jumped to the ground, landing with a thud. "James with me. Make sure nobody else is coming." They tore down the street and took cover behind a small dumpster, gazing down the street. Nobody.

"They're dead," a sharp crack. "Now," said Williams.

James ran up to John, huffing as he lugged his large gun along. "Grunts are attacking, we need to get going."

Only a few hundred meters away, John could hear the eruption of gunfire as both sides clashed. So this was it, the deciding factor. They still needed to save Chambers. "All right. We'll hit what we can on the way but Chambers is the priority."

The team nodded and with a flick of his hand they were off, running through the streets with the cloaks on, barely more than wraiths flying through the sand, evil spirits come to haunt the turians. John chuckled at the thought. He'd make sure that they were the turian's nightmare before this ended.

He ground to a halt a few minutes later and ducked into a building ruined by a bomb. The followed suit and uncloaked on his signal. It was useless to waste power when they were invisible to turian eyes.

"What's up John?" asked Williams, crawling up next to him.

He didn't answer at first and kept his gaze focused on the small crack in the concrete before him. Or rather, on what was outside. He had heard the tramp of boots and the chatter of turians.

Sure enough, they came marching around the bend a minute later, fifteen of them armed to the teeth with spiky helmets covering their awful faces. He felt Williams tense next to him and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing once. "Stay cool," he whispered.

She nodded once but John could feel her trembling with rage, or was it excitement? They all had reasons to hate the aliens, but Williams held a burning fury that few others could muster. It was commendable in battle, not so much when infiltrating.

But she didn't move when they walked past and John blew out a sigh of relief. Their last words caught his attention.

"I heard that the asari creeps managed to trap those xeno special ops somewhere. Going to make an example of them," said the last one in the line. His armor was covered with shrapnel marks and he was limping rather badly. Like many of the survivors of the Old Contact John used to see as a kid. People from before the age of real prosthetics.

"I hope they rip em apart. Show them that they aren't here to stay."

"We've got help coming our way. They're no match for us," added the last. He smacked the other speaker on the shoulder and they rounded the bend after their comrades.

John turned towards James, who had a small antennae poking out of his shoulder. "You got that?" He asked.

"Yeah. Recorded and streamed back to base. Hopefully they knew in advance about the enemy. If not..." He looked around slowly.

"We're not gonna lose here James. We're humans." John jumped up and darted back out of the building with his gun pointed forward.

"If you say so..." said his heavy-weapons man.

"Forget about it. We need to get to Chambers and fast. Alone she won't hold against a group of those freaks," said Williams.

John nodded and they started along the road in absolute silence. Nobody felt like talking after the sobering news. John kept remembering the vid's of his youth, large alien ships hovering above a beautiful Earth and shooting down on it, or sending down waves of troops. Was that what they were going to face?

It had never occurred to him that they would have to go into frontal assaults in space. He just hoped that command knew what they were doing.

* * *

**Jon Lopes: **It's not about hate, it is about practicality.

**Thepkrmgc: **Worry not, you will be seeing that too. :)

_Review! Your comments always encourage me to keep on writing. Until next time._


	11. Strike Back

**Chapter Eleven: Strike Back**

_A/N: Thanks to Jade Tatsu for revising this chapter! Thanks to all you readers for reviewing, favoriting and following. Reviews answered below._

* * *

A stream of bullets slammed into a wall, sending metal splinters flying every which way. Another explosion kicked up dust, sending into the already troubled air. Everything was dark and a red aura pervaded the battle zone as the sun tried to break through the oppressive dust clouds. It felt unreal.

Williams had just dodged a bullet, literally. "Sniper, highlighting building now. I need air forces to clear it out. Slowing down advance of the forty-second shrieker platoon," she shouted into her comm.

A few moments of unbroken silence, except for the battle tearing up the city around her. Finally, "Ah, Locust this is Spiderweb. All air forces allocated to the space threat. Linking you to heavy division now."

Another voice, this time it was cavernous and thick. It sounded like gears grinding together mixed with the shriek of a dying bird. "Project Heavy Division, group five. unassigned. Give us a task."

Williams grinned and aimed down her gun sights as rookie freak poked his head out of cover. She quickly put three shots into his head. Her mags had been carefully prepared in advance with a disruptor charge every three rounds and an AP one right after. He fell to the ground, coughing their disgusting blood. Hopefully the monster would take time to die.

"Group five, I'm marking a building. Get in there and clear it. Sniper presence on the top levels," she replied.

"Acknowledged. Approaching now."

A sudden increase in gunfire on the other side of the fight verified his words. Williams turned towards the Shriekers around her. "Projects are clearing the building. We're going out in five seconds. Get ready you bitches!"

She wiped away blood from her visor and flipped on the lights on her mask, giving it an unreal, terrifying look. It had worked wonders before. Maybe she'd play with the birds before ending them. Williams licked her lips and stood up, vaulting over her cover into a hail of gunfire. "For the fallen!" she screamed.

The shriekers roared and jumped out of cover guns blazing. Their armor and bodies helped them along as they tore down the street with complete disregard for their safety. Williams lead the way, blasting away with her assault rifle as they got nearer and nearer to the enemy lines.

A round slammed into her shields, then another. A dozen more followed after. Beside her, a shrieker clutched his throat and fell, blood spurting from between his fingers. Another overtook her, only to be thrown back with a scream of pain restricted to their comms. A biotic had warped his flesh into a twisted and broken mass.

Her heart pounded into her throat and threatened to burst out but she kept running. She could see the turians faces, full of confusion. More shriekers fell, some silent, some in agony. Their charge left only grey puddles and a few struggling men.

Finally Williams reached the barricade, miraculously unharmed. She leapt a good ten feet over it and landed amidst a crowd of surprised freaks. With a shout of glee she flicked out her wrist blades. They started vibrating and turned white, superheated. Hot enough to slice through concrete.

Every turian looked the same to her as she sliced and diced. Attacking every bird in sight. Her mind was giddy with a terrible glee as they cried out in pain and fear, scrambling away from her. Only to fall into the waiting hands of the surviving shriekers.

Williams ducked a hooked knife blow from an exceptionally tall turian. He roared and kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying. She landed with catlike grace and pulled out her sidearm. The turian just lifted his knife and jumped at her. She halted his charge mid-flight with a bullet in the brain. What a fool. With a grin she stomped down on his throat and looked around.

None were left. With a frown she counted the remaining shriekers. Thirty had charged down the road with her, twenty-four met a grisly end at the hand of the turians or by gunfire. Williams lifted her helmet for a moment and spat out a gobbet of blood. "Good job men. Any survivors?"

A man stepped forward. His armor was covered in blood, most of it his own. His health-status popped up on her HUD. Multiple cut wounds and a gun shot in the arm. It was a miracle he was still standing, but the shriekers were tough bastards. "Six ma'am. Lined up over there." He pointed with his wounded arm and Williams nodded.

"Got get healed up, Corporal Javier. Good job. Take your men with you."

A familiar voice rung in her ear. "Williams, situation? We heard a helluvalot of gunfire down your way. We cleared the enemy and are coming to rendezvous."

"Enemy cleared in this block. Any news on Chambers?"

"Apparently undetected. I managed to slip in a comm to her. The other RIG went out to scout or something."

"Great. See you in five." Williams cut the comm and turned towards the remaining turians. They were eyeing her warily but none moved. One Project stood behind them, his still hot cannons pressed to two turians necks.

Williams prowled around them, savoring the moment. She ran a hand down the face of a particularly scarred one, leaned in close to another. The Project didn't react but a few soldiers turned her way. She gripped a turian around the throat and grinned. They were in for a little show.

"What is your name, freak?" she whispered into his ear.

"Victus," he replied, glaring up at her.

"Well Victus, what do you think about vengeance?"

He stayed silent and turned towards her, giving what she guessed was the equivalent of a glare. How dare he disrespect her. With a barely contained hiss of rage she backhanded him across the cheek. He fell to the floor with a grunt. "Get up!" she yelled.

He groaned and rose, easing himself back into a sitting position. Williams knelt next to him again and ran a finger down his spine. He shivered. So easily toyed with.

"Answer me now, Victus."

"Vengeance is for the weak," he snarled.

"Vengeance is for the weak..." repeated Williams. She rose and walked in front of the crouching turians, turning towards the substantial crowd of soldier. "Vengeance is for the weak!" She shouted.

They shuffled and pressed closer, forming a tight ring around the unfortunate prisoners. How menacing they looked! Their eyes glowing red, their hulking shapes encompassed in dark armor. Real soldiers. "But look at this, we are crushing your pathetic army. Slaughtering your soldiers like mere militia!"

"You have seen nothing. We will end you and your barbaric nation," snapped the turian. He was obviously in command. His bearing screamed authority and power. Those high shoulders and horrible face-markings. Like a primitive.

"You won't." She pulled out her gun and stepped forward. "Any last words, freak?"

He said something unintelligible and spat at her feet. Williams felt the pressure of the trigger on her finger and sighed softly. Such control, so powerful. She leaned in closer. The RIG wanted to see him die, see it in his eyes. One squeeze and his whole body jerked. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the ground.

Another turian lurched forward. "Victus!" he shouted. He tried to make his way towards him but the warm metal of the Projects cannons halted him before he could move more than a few inches. He fell back onto his knees.

Williams laughed and walked back around them, reaching the last in the line. His body shook, from fear or anger she couldn't tell. She hoped he was scared, terrified even. He had strange white spots on his neck. They wouldn't be visible in a moment. She shot him in the back of the head. He slumped forward without a sound.

"Next," she said, stepped to the side.

This one jumped up and faced her, his mandibles flaring. "You will not kill me like a varren, alien," he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

Williams glared at him and curled a hand into a fist. A deadly impulse ran through her and she slammed it into his face with enough force to floor the largest of shriekers. It threw him off his feet and fell to the ground with a pain cry. She walked over to him. Damn that was satisfying. "Not as much as this though," she murmured. A little more pressure on the trigger. Bang.

"Williams!" shouted John. She looked up at him and stepped away from the corpse. He didn't look happy. It was all in the way he moved, similar to her dad back at home when he came home furious after another unsatisfying day working some garbage job. She'd hated him, but damn if he wasn't the reason she'd volunteered for RIG. No shit work for her. This was where it was at.

"Come to join the fun, John?" she asked with a grin plastered across her face.

"Get your fucking ass back in line. No executions until they're interrogated," he snarled, walking up close to her. "If you weren't one of ours I'd beat your fucking head in right now."

"What the hell? They're just some freak grunts!" she waved an arm towards them, pointing her gun at their simple armor. How didn't John understand?

"I don't care what you think, follow your damn orders Williams," he turned away from her and walked towards a cluster of army officers. "Now fall in line!"

She looked back at the remaining three turians. It would be easy, John wouldn't really mind. Would he? With a curse, Williams slammed her gun back into its old-school holster and stormed after him. This wasn't the John she knew. RIGs had to keep an eye out for bad behavior. Even among themselves and Williams always did her duty.

* * *

Commander Vakarian stood ramrod straight, his full attention focused on the blinking red and green lights on the holographic display. He stood on the bridge of the Rammer, dreadnought of the fifth turian fleet. An impressive ship, one of the strongest in the galaxy.

Around him, an assortment of one hundred spaceships in close formation, surrounded by walls of glowing purple and blue light. The whole ship thrummed from the power of its engines and many turians, even the practiced sailors, stumbled. Vakarian didn't flinch or tip.

"Time update,." he said.

"Exiting FTL in five minutes. Reports from the ground are vague and choppy. The enemy is trying to block comms. We know little more than the fact that they have a presence in orbit. Possibly limited."

"Very well," Garrus's mandibles twitched and he ran a finger down the blue symbols on his forehead. They had changed a lot in the last generations. "Update me with anything from the ground as soon as possible." He started pacing back and forth, glancing at the information on the omni-tool strapped to his wrist. With a flick of his talons he dismissed one officer and summoned another.

"Sir?" Said the turian with a salute.

Garrus didn't look up, he didn't have time for pleasantries. "Tell all ships in my group to get into battle formation Six-Six when we exit FTL. Intel ; Unknown enemy, be ready for anything."

The soldier saluted and jogged off, leaving Garrus to his worries and thoughts. He knew his ancestors had brought great shame to his family in a war, but whenever he tried to look deeper into it he found nothing but the murky nothingness of forgotten archives and classified data. Garrus Vakarian would not go down the same path as those before him. He would crush the enemy with honor.

A red light blinked on. Thirty seconds left. His hands curled into fists, careful to keep his talons from cutting his skin. Garrus crossed his arms to prevent twitching and fiddling. A tight feeling roiled up in his gut. This would be his first battle, his first real battle. The characteristic light show of FTL was already beginning to flicker when the Fifth fleet general walked up to him. His features were tense.

"Make sure to keep this ship undamaged, Vakarian. I will be in comms room, coordinating the fleets. There is an electrical failure in the war room." He passed a hand over his face. "I came to wish you good luck in person. Do not fail the Hierarchy," he saluted.

Garrus returned the salute sharply. It was as if a flame had been lit in his heart. A warm feeling suffused him and he turned back to the map. "Never sir."

The ship shuddered, then they were back into normal space and the room erupted into a chaotic mess of commands, orders and questions. Garrus rode the tide of information efficiently, sorting it on his data screens with calm efficiency. Now that the time to fight had come, he felt like a lake on a calm summer evening. Cool and undisturbed.

The third group veered towards the planet, ready to unload troops and supplies before returning to the fight. Group one was spearheading towards the enemy and Garrus had to hold back. His mandibles twitched and he ground his teeth together. Stay behind! Like a reserve.

He swiped the generals command from his screen. The coward just wanted to stay safe.

"Sir, First fleet is going through a scrap yard. It looks like the enemy lost ships on the way in," reported a soldier, leaning back from his console.

Garrus nodded and tapped a command into his omni-tool. Perhaps resistance would be limited. He frowned. "What sort of fleet or orbital defenses did Morag have, soldier?" He asked the same turian.

The private tapped away on his keyboard for a few seconds and gave Garrus a baffled look. "None sir."

Garrus didn't waste anymore time. A cold feeling took hold of him, and his face went numb. He tapped at his console as quickly as possible, cursing the security measures in place. Finally, he pulled up a comm link with the commander of group one.

"Farr here, what is is Vakarian?" asked the old turian in a dusty voice.

"Pull back, get out of the scrap yard, it's a trap! No fleet or orbital defenses in place on Morag!" He shouted. All around him the personal fell silent and turned towards him, their eyes wide.

"What are you even talk-"

Garrus heard it through comms before he felt it. A huge, ear-shattering roar followed by static. "Brace!" He yelled into the group two comms. Ten seconds later, a shower or debris hit them like a charging elcor. The dreadnought trembled and rocked, sending a few soldiers tumbling. A female was nearly thrown into Garrus, she cried out as she sailed past him and he barely hooked onto her with his claws, pulling her close.

The shaking stopped and she stepped away quickly, her mandibles twitching with embarrassment.

"Damage report!" yelled Garrus.

"Shields took the hit, seventy-five percent. One frigate broke in two. Some vessels lost shields," came the hurried reply.

"First group isn't reporting in sir!" said an officer.

"Get ready for a fight. All pilots are to prep engines for emergency take off," Garrus closed his eyes for a moment, trying to escape the stricken faces around him. He probably reflected it, he couldn't allow himself such a weakness. Now was the time to be strong.

* * *

As the second group twisted and turned in a confused mass of steel and explosives, a crescent circle of human ships uncloaked around them. They were big and small and all looked menacing, like black skinned demons with eyes of fire and brimstone.

They didn't leave time for the second group to react and opened fire instantly, pouring high explosives, nuclear warheads and gigantic slugs into the turian fleet.

Jeff "Joker" strapped himself into his heavy-duty fighter and cracked his knuckles. A matte black mask concealed his face, but beneath this carapace of steel was a face with soft features and a light beard. A cluster of scars wreathed around his left ear and he had a small tattoo on his brow.

His fighter, a F-590, vibrated as its mothership unloaded another five ton slug towards the enemy. He watched it streak towards the enemy shipss through his hangar door.

"Hey Joker, how many today?"

"If my calculations are correct, it is statistically probable that he downs in between two and six enemy fighters." said a feminine voice.

"It was a bet EDI, not an excuse for you to flaunt your calculation skills," snapped Joker, smacking the side of his ship.

"My skill-limit is higher than simple probability," the AI replied.

Joker grinned. Sometimes he wished she was a real person.

"Listen to them," hollered Kim Layes over comms. "If they could, they'd share bunks."

That got a few laughs from the rest of the squadron and a blush from Joker. He felt his cheeks heat and tried to think up a witty remark. They couldn't understand such a relationship! They didn't share life and death with an intelligent being in the way he did. He finally gave up and slumped in his seat, frowning out of the hanger doors.

A red light lit up their launch pads and an alarm started to blare. It echoed around the bay and engineers scurried for cover as forty engines roared to life. Like a pack of mighty tigers the sleek ships rose into the air.

Joker's hands flew over the command console while EDI took over the take-off sequence. His body was busy preparing the ship, but Joker's mind was calm. His heartbeat slow and steady, his breaths controlled. He closed his eyes for ten seconds and trusted his life to the AI while he collected himself.

His hands curled around the controls and a grin crossed his face. "Alright red squadron, let's see if you can get half my kill count today," he yelled.

"We decide!" replied his squad, echoing an age-old motto that had endured even the apocalyptic end of the old world.

With a rush of pride, Joker tilted his ship into a steep dive towards the enemy vessels. He glanced at his radar, his team was assembling behind him in skirmish formation. "Enemies, thousand klicks away," said Kim.

"Prepare to engage, you know the drills. Missiles for later," said Joker. He moved forward as if in a dream. When he flew, nothing felt real, he was invincible.

The enemies were getting closer. "A hundred clicks."

He could see the sun glinting off them now, and the flashes of their guns as they opened fire. Joker flicked a button and a few arcs of electricity crossed his ships surface. "Engage EMP buzzers and engage, good luck." He heaved his ship up and pulled into a dangerous spin. Even the compensators in his ship couldn't stop him from leaning dangerously to the side. He felt his fragile bones creaked.

"Be careful Jeff, your bone structure is not adapted for extreme maneuvers," said EDI with what he could swear was a touch of concern.

"You tell that to me every time, but I always make it back with a new medal," he said. The enemies looked disturbed by the human tactics. Their ships shot through human ranks and started slow arcs. They weren't made for dogfights, or the pilots were not trained adequately. "Easy pickings..."

He jerked his ship around and fell behind a speeding fighter, it was taking a long, smooth turn to re-engage. He lined it up in his sights and an instant later they blinked red. Streams of hyper accelerated shards of lead shot out of his canons, ramming into the enemy shields. They flashed in a brilliant miasma of colors and shattered under the continuous hail. Only then did the turian take evasive maneuvers, but it was too late. Joker's finger didn't come off the trigger until the unfortunate alien was nothing more than expanding space-dust.

"Kim, sitrep." No more jokes from him, his eyes flicked from control board to space with professional speed.

"They were taken by surprise, took heavy losses in the first waves but they have more guys than us and they're starting to adapt. A lot of them are pulling towards atmosphere."

"Copy." He switched to squad leader channels. "Who's taking those going into atmo?"

"Killen here. Nobody, we're shielding the fleet."

"Understood. Red squadron is pursuing, we'll keep them away from you," he replied.

"Good luck," replied Killen.

Joker clicked back to his squad. "Alright guys, we're taking the atmo-fags down!"

EDI leaked more power into his engines without him even asking and they sped towards the dust-colored planet, in hot pursuit of the turian fleeing ships.

They hit atmosphere a few minutes later. Far over the advised reentry speed. Joker thanked the gods for his special seat as his whole ship vibrated and his cockpit lit up with the flames eating at his kinetic barriers. While his fighter streaked towards certain death, Joker kept his eyes glued on the screen displaying his targets. His squad was left far behind.

"Jeff, we are approaching the surface at dangerous speeds and leaving all support far behind," said EDI, her small hologram popping up in the corner of the cockpit.

"Thanks for that EDI, I hadn't noticed," replied Joker, tapping a few commands with trembling fingers. Either you flew over the valley of death, or you never took off. This was the way to fly.

"Sarcasm will not affect me Jeff, you should slow down." EDI's hologram turned orange and Joker grinned despite the danger.

"We might die and you're just now getting annoyed?" he said with a laugh.

EDI didn't answer and her hologram winked out of existence. She would probably snub him until she got bored calculating one thing or another. He let his jovial façade slide off like hot wax and cursed.

Out of the six fleeing men, four had broken off. Joker had ignored him and streaked after the last ones like an avenging comet. The weaker ones would be dealt with by his squad, he wanted to hunt sharks, not minnows.

They started slowing down five kilometers above the surface, Joker would stop at three. "EDI, prepare the emergency landing thrusters. Going to have to go in hot to catch up before they can be ready."

"I should not be assigned to you, Jeff," replied the AI.

"I know that you love me deep down in your coding." He patted the side of his cockpit and took a deep breath, clenching his teeth and bracing for the pain.

"Engage!" he yelled, crossing his arms over his chest and bracing himself. The ship shuddered and screeched like a dying cat as it went from mach six to an abrupt and brutal halt. Warning lights lit up all around Joker and he quickly shut his eyes. It felt like they were getting ripped out of his sockets. Everything turned red and his body felt like it was being crushed into a pulp. Finally it stopped and he nearly puked in his helmet, gasping.

"Kinetic barriers down, I fed their remaining energy into the G-force modulator," said EDI in a cool voice.

Joker grabbed the controls and twisted the brutalized ship towards his two targets. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"I stopped you from being reduced to a pulp, Jeff. You are welcome."

"Sorry, sorry," he waved one hand around. "I guess it just got a little more interesting, then."

The turians had noticed him. Unlike their compatriots in space they broke off and curved away from each other in tight loops. Joker's ship tore upwards and above. He twisted it into a sharp turn as they powered towards him in their strangely shaped ships. But he had the high ground now.

"Feel this, bitches." He muttered as he shot a few dozen high-impact electrical rounds in the calculated trajectory of the first foe. EDI's predictions were correct, they smashed into the vessels shields and they fizzed out. Joker bit on the inside of his cheek and clenched his fist around the controls.

He watched the second vessel shoot past beneath him. It had a red claw on its side and a dozen notches. An ace. A fire light in his brown eyes. "EDI, let's clear out the wingman quick and hunt the shark."

"Of course Jeff, I advise using high-explosive slugs."

"You bet." He switched rounds and looped down behind the wingman, who tried to veer out of the way. Joker easily stayed behind him and took a few shoots, none hit but they exploded around the ship with enough force to shake it.

"He is diving, Jeff!" called EDI.

"I know, I have eyes!" He replied, tilting his ship into a dive after the turians. They danced and weaved through the air like two ice skaters, getting ever closer to the golden sands below. Finally his enemy pulled up, barely ten meters above the surface, kicking up a huge cloud of dust.

"EDI!" shouted Joker as he pulled up abruptly, his engines whining in protest. "Thermal activated." His cockpit flickered and replaced everything by varying shades of blue and orange.

The enemy was as clear as a pig in a chicken coop. Little bastard wouldn't get away with Joker on his tail. With a cry of victory, the human aerial ace unleashed a storm of lead into the foes engines. The reaction was spectacular. The whole ship exploded like a magnificent firework and sent fragments of turian and ship flying for miles.

"Time for the big bad ace, gimme a location EDI," said Joker. His blood thrummed with the feeling of victory. He didn't think his grin would ever fade. One of the best chases ever.

"He is approaching us fast from behind. I did not want to disturb your hunt," said EDI.

"Dammit, we're not all immortal!" he yelled, glancing down at his console. Sure enough, the turian was bearing down on him fast and Joker was out of shields and time. He veered sharply to the side but the turian copied his movement with surprising skill.

A few rounds flew past him and he jerked his F-509 to the side. Joker skimmed the dunes and blew up dust behind him but the turian would not let go. Another shot streaked by the cockpit and Joker flinched.

"Christ." he muttered. Sweat poured down his face and something in his chest clenched tightly. He had to do something, fast.

So he brought out his best. Weaving, twisting, pirouetting and going through some of the most incredible stunts he had ever achieved, in and out of combat. The turian managed to stay behind him throughout it all and by the time Joker ran out of tricks he could only feel a grudging respect for the pilot. He was damn good.

"I suggest flying over human space. Our ground defences will take care of this turian," said EDI.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around." Joker unclipped his face mask and tossed it to the side, quickly wiping sweat from his brow before reaffirming his clutch on the controls.

Both ships speared through the dusty-filled air, unsettling herds of strange three-legged animals in the dunes. Joker kept spinning and dodging every shot, fully aware that he was living on borrowed time. Finally, the inevitable happened. The F-509 shuddered. A shower of sparks covered the cockpit for a moment and Joker cried out, twisting to the side.

"Status!"

"Light hit to the front of the vessel, damaged frontal gun number one," said EDI, apparently unconcerned. "We are near our lines."

Just then his ship sped over a cluster of apartment buildings marked with plain black flag. Joker blew out a sigh of relief and slumped back into his chair, bringing his ship down behind their cover and speeding off in a wide-curve, to follow their front.

The turian ship struggled now. A lattice of explosions and missile shots surrounded it. Even then it couldn't be dissuaded. Soot and blast marks covered it, but the red symbol still stood out like blood. The pilot wasn't letting go.

"Dammit, just fucking down him already!" yelled Joker as he gunned the ship into a sharp turn. Incapable of doing their duty, these AA gunners. He'd deal with the pilot. It had always been between the two of them.

He had reached the apex of his turn when EDI cried out. "Jeff, watch out!"

He looked towards the turian and could only stare with an open mouth. The turian was storming towards him with the back of his ship on fire. One jerk of the controls and he veered away, but even his agile ship couldn't face down such a charge unharmed. The turian clipped his beloved F-590 and ripped off a whole wing.

"Attempting to stabilize, recommend crash position Jeff," said EDI. The ship shuddered and flipped over. Joker watched the turian ship turn around laboriously and crash-land right into a column of soldiers, engulfing them in a fiery explosion.

"Fucking coward! You were mine!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the cockpit.

"Jeff!" said EDI.

He grit his teeth and clamped his fists together until he thought his brittle bones would snap. "I got it." With one last look at his nemesis'' smoldering remains he curled up into a ball and let his chair envelop him in a protective layer.

Even with the protective gear it felt like he had hit a concrete wall. His body arched and pain shot up his spin. Everything rolled and tumbled until finally, with a horrible shrieking sound, it stopped. His chair pulled back and Joker uncurled with a groan. His bones were fine, his body wasn't.

"EDI?"

"I am here, Jeff. The ship is damaged, you should get out soon. I am sending a message to the front lines."

"I can walk to the command post, I'm not an invalid," he snapped, popping open the canopy and patting the side of his overheated ship lovingly. "Damn waste of a perfectly good ship."

"Technically you are, Jeff. Regardless, we landed on the wrong side of the lines."

He retracted his hand and looks up at his surroundings. They had landed on a long road situated on a hill. It had a nice view on the rest of the district and was in plain view of everyone else. He swore and heaved himself out of the ship, landing on unsteady legs.

"Shit."

* * *

**AmericanWriter935:**_No Cerberus. Might be a pro-alien group. You'll have to find out in the following chapters. :)_

_A big thanks for all the people supporting the story. Hope you enjoyed the (slightly) longer chapter._

_Review!_


	12. Savior

**Chapter 12: Savior**

_A/N:_

_Thanks to all those who keep following my story and reviewing. Thank you to the newcomers too. Hope you enjoy this chapter and as usual, answers to reviews are below._

* * *

Tevos found herself more and more in the Council offices instead of their public podium and she did not like it. For the hundredth time that day she wondered why this had to happen while she was in the Council. Why couldn't these vengeful aliens have struck when the wrongdoers still held power? She had done nothing to deserve this pressure.

She rubbed her brow gently and looked at the two other councillors. Their presence was becoming increasingly abrasive over time.

"We have heard nothing from the scout crew and now we learn that they are hitting systems across the galaxy," She said.

Sparatus nodded once and stood up, walking towards the display screen. "We know what they're after. Resources at critical points with relatively light garrisons. They've got to be spreading their forces thin to strike so many places."

"What are we doing to stop them?" asked Valern.

"The turian fifth fleet is heading in and might have already arrived to the critical world of Morag. We've split it up to strike at five other worlds and are pulling reinforcements from other systems. They wouldn't be dumb enough to hit even more planets at once," the turian clicked his talons together and growled. "They have focused their might on Morag, a critical mining world. We plan on taking it back and staging a counter-attack from there."

Tevos stared at the galaxy map with empty eyes. This war had been unlike any other they knew. The Rachni had been visible. They had known where they were and how to defend themselves. The Krogan rebellions had been brutal but straightforward. Now they faced an enemy that hid in the shadows, struck fast and hard then fled into the unending depths of space.

"What are our casualties, Sparatus?"

"We estimate that the turian armed forces have lost four-hundred thousand soldiers since the very first raids. Civilian losses are currently nearly one million. The WMDs and radioactive weapons account for most of the losses. Police forces have lost two-hundred thousand," he replied, looking down at the ground for a brief moment, as if in grief.

Tevos knew better, Sparatus was a hard man, losses rarely affected him. She gritted her teeth and tried to smother the pang in her heart. They most certainly hurt her.

"One million, six-hundred thousand casualties. Doubt enemy losses are so high," said Valern. He stood up and walked towards the door.

"Valern, what are you doing?" asked Tevos.

"Talk to STG, want another scout-ship with live-feed video send to Sol System. Want conclusive evidence of human presence. If there, advise full-scale invasion."

Tevos leaned back in her chair and looked at the high ceiling, muttering a prayer to the goddess. If only things could be that simple.

"Stay," she instructed and the door hissed closed as Valern turned around.

Tevos felt her turian counterpart's sharp eyes on her. "You are losing your will to fight," he said.

"This killing is pointless, Sparatus," she smacked her palm onto the table. "Can't you see it? They fight to avenge some wrong doing inflicted upon them by others and we just sit here and wait, blind to their next attack. We can't go on like this! We need to find a way to stop it."

"Then send a fleet to the Sol System! The scouts didn't report back from their mission," snarled Sparatus, his claw grinding against the metal table.

Valern nodded. "Would be best option to end conflict."

Tevos rubbed a finger against her brow and shook her head. "Did you not see the casualty count for the first attack? In those days they had primitive weaponry and were as stubborn as turians!"

"Don't!" yelled Sparatus. He took a deep breath and his mandibles slowly stopped twitching. "Don't compare them to my species, Tevos."

She nodded once and held up a hand placatingly. She'd compare them to anything she wanted when he wasn't there. Maybe even to him. A small smirk flirted with her lips but she pushed it back. Wrong time and wrong place. "What I mean to say is that attacking their home system would be unbelievably costly. We need to seek peace with them."

"You want peace? They will kill millions while you negotiate!" shouted Sparatus, his mandibles flaring with fury.

"And we have killed billions of theirs!" She leapt up, her body flaring blue for a brief moment. She couldn't handle his stupid turian pride anymore. "We are going to find them and speak to them. I don't give a damn about your turian pride. I care about the lives of those dying right now!"

* * *

General Hydril slammed open the command center doors and ran up to his second in command, gasping for breath. He was an aging Turian and sprinting across the whole camp had done nothing good for his battered body. It was a testament to the severity of the situation that nearly none of the personal around him turned to salute.

"Status report!" he snapped, grabbing the offered datapad and making his way towards the holomap briskly. His second, Commander Akra, ran after him.

"The relief fleet arrived unannounced. As expected, we summoned you as soon as we detected them." Akra took a steadying breath and pointed Hydril towards a small screen to the side of the room. Hydril frowned, nobody was attending to it, it was as if every turian in the room tried to avoid it.

He walked up to it and tapped in a few commands. "What is this, second?"

"A recording from our satellite. First contact between both fleets."

Hydril played it through. His mandibles spread open in a grin when the fleet appeared. Finally, they would wipe these barbarians from their planet. The fleet broke into three parts before him. Suddenly, a flash illuminated the screen and Hydril pulled back, wincing. "What happened?"

"Keep watching, sir."

Hydril cursed under his breath when the screen cleared. The first group had been wiped out, nothing left but burning husks and a few glinting scraps of metal. His claws dug furrows into an unoccupied seat when the human fleet appeared around the second group and opened fire. A few seconds later the video disappeared into a sea of static, then cut off.

"They hit the satellites around the planet then. Or at least the remaining ones."

"What is happening now?" snapped Hydril.

"The human fleet is outnumbered but they are extremely agile and fight with unconventional methods. We have never encountered such warfare before. They are most similar to salarians," replied Akra.

"Spineless cowards," Hydril slammed his fist into the table and stood up, walking back towards the holomap. He took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. He couldn't do anything about the space battle. "Give me an update on the ground."

Akra nodded and brought up his omni-tool. "Humans began an offensive about the same time that the fleet appeared in the system." A few dots appeared on the map. "In these locations."

Hydril leaned forward. "They're pushing across the city in a hurry. Obviously it isn't their prime target. I wonder why they aren't bombing it?" He shook his head. "They've done it before." And he wouldn't let them do it again.

"Well sir...They've also stayed much longer than they usually do," Akra trailed off.

Something exploded high above them and made the whole bunker shake. The screen flickered for a second and a few soldiers ducked. Akra straightened himself and passed a hand over his mandibles thoughtfully. "I think they're here to stay."

Hydril nodded. A troop of soldiers dashed past him and he dodged to the side, giving them a half salute. Those men were going out into the shredder. Hydril envied them their simple position in this fight. The days when orders were orders and all he did was follow them were beginning to regain their lustrous sheen. "Jerol!"

The battle-scarred general got up from his chair and snapped his fingers at an officer. He jogged over to take his place. Jerol saluted sharply. "Yes, General Hydril?"

"Take a team and get to the reinforcement's landing zone. You will take over there."

Jerol dashed off and Hydril turned back to his screen. He had thought to punish Colonel Drik with a useless assignment in the back lines. Punishment. But the front lines had been swept away by the sudden attack. Humans had overrun their defenses in the most unexpected of hours, as if they knew when his men had the smallest garrison. All flyovers had shown no signs of prisoners. Now his best pilot was gone too, apparently crash landing into an enemy convoy. Hydril rubbed his eyes and turned back to the holomap. He would make this right.

* * *

"We have to switch positions, Roach," Kelly Chambers tapped the other RIG member on the shoulder. He looked up from his rifle for a brief moment and pointed towards the street running parallel to their house. Through a small crack in the wall, Chambers could see about a dozen turians marching in close formation.

"I'm gunning for them," he said. He didn't have any face paint, obviously a newbie to the teams.

She mouthed an oath. Blood rushed to her cheeks like a wave of unbridled fury. Damn rookies and their overzealous stupidity. Chambers crouched next to him and grabbed her submachine gun. "We've got no time for this. Gotta move, we're already surrounded," she said as loud as she dared.

"I'm taking the shot."

Chambers lunged forward and smashed into him, sliding an arm around his neck and jerking him to the side. Three things happened simultaneously. His sniper rifle popped a shot with a reverberating crack. The turians in the street ducked for cover as the shot went wide, and a flash of light a few hundred meters away escorted the bang of a turian sniper rifle.

Roach jerked once and fell to the ground, a hole right in the middle of his visor. The round spun out of the back of his head and slammed into her chest plate, smashing through it. She gasped in pain and her vision swam for a second. Blood started leaking out of her chestplate.

"Damn!" she gasped. Why did she have to get the shit detail while the rest of the team got to stick together? Her position was compromised and turians were coming to get her. She had seen their faces in her scope many a time, enough to know that they would have no mercy with her.

Blood pumped through her body, sending shots of excitement and fear into her brain like one of the lower bunker drugs. She slung the rifle over her shoulder, grabbed her submachine gun and ran for the stairs. Chambers popped open her visor at the top of the stairs and wiped away the river of sweat pouring down her face.

That second saved her life. The door below her exploded inwards, spraying deadly shrapnel every which way. It was quickly followed by a horde of turians in heavy armor. Chambers unclipped a grenade from her belt and tossed it down into the hall before scrambling back to the upper level.

The room was bare, except for her blanket and the massive waste of flesh called Roach. She kicked him in the head and took cover behind a small outcrop of piping. Her last moments spent in a gray box, just like home. A sick laugh escaped her lips as she brought her SMG up to bare.

Clouds of dust and a few agonized screams made their way up from the lower levels, accompanied by a few frantic shouts and the rattle of turian weapons fire.

Chambers glanced through the hole in the wall and looked up at the sky. It had almost cleared and she could see a small sliver of the sun, along with an impossibly blue sky. She sighed softly and unclasped her helmet, tossing it to the side. How she regretted not getting a nice planet in her assignment. It was like an ache in her heart, a dagger point of pain, burrowing deep into her flesh. She'd make do.

By now, the turians were making their way up the stairs. Chambers lifted a hand and unclipped her goggles. They fell to the floor and she shut her eyes against the blinding light. Even with her eyes closed, it burrowed deep, dug through her brain like acid rain in Mexico.

Slowly, she forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry, confused. It stung and made her eyes water but she smiled. She'd promised John that those goggles would go off at one point. Hopefully he'd survive this.

A shape charged through the doorway and Chambers opened fire, spraying it with a rain of lead. With a cry the turian fell to the ground, twitching. Another came in after, then another and another. Two more fell before she was out of ammo. The third rushed her. Chambers rose.

"Come and get me then, freaks!" she screamed, lunging at him. She didn't even see his arm arcing around and smashing into the side of her face. She landed with a thud, stunned. Before she had time to react, the turians piled on her and had her cuffed and secured. Her suicide button was out of reach and everything was a confused blur. Why hadn't they killed her?

"Who are you?" A turian stepped in front of her. She squinted and bared her teeth. He had a gun in his hand, a black blob against his pale armor.

"I do not answer your questions, freak," she jerked forward. Something heavy hit her in the back of her head and everything went dark for a second. She slumped backwards when they grabbed her by the hair. She bit back a cry. They wouldn't get that satisfaction.

"You are a sharpshooter," said that same damned turian.

"Captain, shouldn't we bring her back to base?" asked something from behind her. Chambers lowered her gaze and strained her fingers forward. The suicide button was just there, an inch away from her prying fingers. Her heart beat in an unsteady rhythm and a small tear popped into her eye. She didn't want to go like this, she had too much left to do.

"No, no time. We don't know what could hit us between there and here. The asari creeps aren't even in this sector."

Chambers stiffened and looked up at him. A ferocious smile crossed her face. "They will die, just like you will."

The big blur crouched down in front of her. She glared at him, straining silently against her bonds. The turian slapped her across the face. Red-hot lines of pain flashed across her cheek and sent two vicious darts into her brain. She cringed but said nothing, staring back at him.

"Only your kind will die. You will be wiped out for your crimes."

"Our crimes are nothing compared to your own, turian," she spat, lunging forward. Something grabbed her and held her back. A few turians in the crowd murmured with each other and she saw them shifting, getting closer.

"What do you mean, alien," snarled their leader. She could hear the anger in his voice. Chambers relaxed and settled down, crossing her legs. Hot blood trickled down her neck, she resisted the urge to scratch it. It was like a line of red ants crawling over her.

"Your kind e-" a wall exploded inwards in a hail of gunfire. The turians spun around, scrambling madly for weapons. Chambers grinned like a kid on her birthday. A Project smashed a turian aside, its electric blades thrumming with energy. With an ear-rending screech it blew another across the room, most of the freak's midsection missing.

"Concentrate fire!" yelled the leader.

Chambers rolled backwards and curled up in a ball. Her hands slipped to the front and she leapt up. She nearly fell as her left leg lost any strength. With a grunt, she leapt forward and circled her arms over the leader's neck. Thank god for augmentations. She slammed him against her and pulled with all her might. Her cuffs metal links pressed against his throat and he gurgled, kicking and writhing under her grasp.

"Less fun now, isn't it, freak?" she hissed into his ear, her teeth bared into a furious rictus. The cuffs tore against her gloves and burrowed into her wrists, biting into her flesh like cold, undead insects. "Enjoy your last moment, looks like you were wrong." With a twist, she jerked his head around, shattering his neck. He went slack and Chambers released him.

The Project slit a turian from crotch to neck, spilling its organs to the floor in a bloody mess. The alien shrieked in pain and crumpled to the floor. None remained. Blood bathed everything and dead turians littered the floor like a grotesque carpet.

"Kelly?" shouted someone from outside.

Chambers wiped a hand over her eyes and the bloody haze lifted. She blinked a few times and felt her legs give away. Her heart thumped in her throat and fire coursed through her wrists. "Damnit..."

Someone crouched before her and she felt a surprisingly gentle touch on her cheek. "Kelly!"

"John?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Scared me for a moment," he said. She felt a prick against her neck and suddenly, energy flowed through her limbs. Her muscles spasmed and her back arched. She cried out and slumped to the floor again. "Come on, we need to get moving."

"Alre-" she bit her tongue. "Yes sir."

John ran a finger against her cheek and stood up, offering her a hand. Chambers looked away, was she actually blushing? Hopefully all the gore would hide it. It was the first time she was thankful for alien blood covering her. She grabbed her goggles and slipped them on. The light receded and everything cleared up.

Kelly moaned, it felt like a cool river washing over her eyes, soothing them with its blessed balm. Her wrists twinged. She glanced down and bit her lip. The skin was torn and she could see the red flesh below, pulsing blood out onto the floor.

John grabbed them and looked at her. She couldn't see his face but he sounded concerned. "Christ, Kelly. What happened?"

"They just cuffed me. Had to get out of them somehow."

He shook his head and knelt down, picking up her gun and mask. She took them and smiled at him before clasping the mask to her face. With a hiss, the suit pressurized and the familiar taste of recycled air touched her like a long forgotten friend.

"We've got new directives. You up for it Kelly?"

"What the hell do you think? Give me a moment to seal the wounds."

"I'll give you ten."

* * *

_First things first, I think a lot of people took my 'maybe' in last chapers answers as a yes. When I say maybe I really mean it. It is quite possible that there will be no pro-alien group among humans. But then again, there might be one. You'll find out as the story progresses. *wink*_

**Darkfinder (ch5): **Unfortunately, humans in this story are not as all knowing as we are!

**ShepardisaBOSS: **How rude! (I jest, I'm sure you aren't the only one. ^^)

_Until next time. Think we can make it to three-hundred reviews before chapter thirteen? That would be pretty amazing!_


	13. Buying Time

**Chapter 13: Buying Time**

_A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed, followed and favorit! As usual, I've answer some people below._

_Belated salute to all Veterans and active duty soldiers from all countries._

* * *

Friend and foe dealt death forty meters below him. Brave soldiers and stinking freaks were dying by the dozen, from explosions, bullets and knives. It was a terrible bloodbath and Lieutenant Lenfield was glad to be high above it. He scratched his growing stubble and took a drag from his cigarette.

He couldn't hear the fighting below him but he could well imagine the noise. His ship shuddered as something exploded not far from the left wing. Lenfield casually corrected their trajectory and diverted a little more juice to the lower shielding.

"Adams, I thought you were supposed to be good in a gunner's seat!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Yeah, fuck you too, I've only got about three hundred targets down here," snapped Adams.

Lenfield's face fell. He crushed the remains of the cig in his fist and tossed it over his shoulder into the troop bay. It was empty, except for their medical expert. A nameless girl from the ground crews. Lenfield pulled a small slip of paper from a seam in the ships hull. It was a picture. He was standing in the middle in full gear, surrounded by five beautiful bastards.

"Miss y'all," he muttered. The ship shook again and his gaze turned steely. A little smoke started leaking from behind his console. At least it hid some of the mess. Gunship forty-three of the Third Heavy-Airflight Division looked good on the outside, but Lenfield liked the lived-in atmosphere of his cockpit. Not even his CO would get him to clean this shit up.

"Approaching extraction point in thirty, boys and girls. Clear us a zone!"

The ship shuddered as his three gunners opened fire, pouring down torrents of lead and high explosives down onto the unfortunate freaks below him.

A voice crackled over comms. "Ah, G-43, this is L-1A, give us an ETA."

Lenfield grimaced. RIG's. He leaned back in his chair and eased his beast to the left. With a roar the ship veered off, leaving a trail of destruction behind it. He tapped a command into his console and looked out of the window. All around him smoke rose from the suburbs. A few miles off, flashes erupted from the city-spires as enemy fighters jet-shot themselves out of their docking bays. Trouble was on its way. "L-1A this is G-43. Approaching landing point. Coming in hot, we've got bogeys incoming."

"Copy that G-43. Holding position, make speed."

They covered the last miles in a few seconds. "Crew get ready. Landing in a hot zone." Lenfield leaned forward onto his consoles and stared at the display screen. Shots were going every which way and his landing zone was maybe four inches wider than his gunship. "Looks like a new paint-job is in order when I get back," he muttered. His day was bad enough.

"L-1A. We're in," he guided the ship down and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Instantly, alerts started popping up as rounds pinged off his shielding. He smacked the doors open and a hail of bullets, quickly followed by a haggard looking RIG team came in.

"We're in, get moving pilot!" shouted one of them. He was practically carrying a shorter one with blood dripping from her chest. He put her up against the wall and patted her shoulder but Lenfield only gave them half his attention. The ship shuddered and his thrusters roared, carbonizing an intrepid turian as he ran towards them. Like a mighty beast of prey, G-43 rose into the skies and shot off.

The same RIG as before came up to him and leaned against the empty chair next to him. "Pilot, you are not in standard issue equipment."

Lenfield licked his suddenly sweaty upper lip and shrugged, giving the RIG an uneasy grin. "I fight better like this?"

He quickly averted his eyes from the horrible mask. The extranet said that humanity as a whole was creepy. They didn't know half of it. His radar beeped. "Fuck," snarled Lenfield. He slammed a palm on his chair arm and turned around. "Sergeant Shepard? I was meant to get you to the crash site of one of our pilots. Not going to be possible, I have bogeys gaining on me fast."

"Didn't seem to mind last time." said Adams over the comms.

"Shut the fuck up, Adams!" shouted Lenfield. How dare he? The ship jerked to the left and shot towards the ground. With a deep breath, Lenfield released the controls and let the ship readjust. It steadied and they kept on going, ploughing their way through the thick swarms of sand and seas of smoke.

"What did your gunner mean, pilot?" asked Shepard.

"I had an accident with this gunship before, is all."

"...I see," replied the RIG. He shifted and Lenfield grinned. So they weren't always ice-cold killers.

"Anyway, I'm going to drop you off two clicks away from the crash site and get the hell out of here. I'd bring you in closer but I can't. Comes from higher up than me."

"Very well. Do you have medical facilities?"

"We have a medic," he glanced over his shoulders and sure enough, she was already busy on the wounded RIG. They even bled red like the rest of them. Lenfield snorted.

"Get us over there fast and drop us off. Stay in the area."

Lenfield frowned. "But-"

"I said, stay in the area," snapped Shepard in a cold voice. "I don't know what game your command is playing but we're in the thick of it. We'll need an extraction avenue."

Lenfield shrugged. "I'll see what I can do." Adams wasn't going to be happy. The ship slowed down and Lenfield popped open the doors. The wind howled and clawed its way in, trying to wrest the ship from Lenfield's control. But he had long ago tamed the beast, it stayed faithful.

"Here's your stop. Good luck RIG."

Without a word, the four soldiers leapt out of the door and into the fight. Lenfield slammed the doors and took off, the enemy fighters were hardly more than one click away. Warning lights flashed on his console.

"They're locking onto us," shouted Adams from his gunnery seat.

Lenfield looked at the picture now displayed on his command board, then back at Adams. The man's face was twisted in a mask of anger and worry, stained with grease and sweat.

"I know what you're thinking, Lenfield!" yelled Adams. "You lost one crew to this kind of shit already. Don't be a dumbass."

"I know!" he bellowed back, his hands curling around the controls like vices. He bit his tongue and held back another remark. "I know…" He jerked the controls and the ship veered sharply to the left.

* * *

"Wreckage in sight."

A pillar of smoke rose above the low houses, quickly swallowed by the never ending winds. John flinched as something exploded deeper in the city. This wasn't the only crash but he would make damn sure that at least this pilot survived.

"Map update," he called. The systems in his suit pinged in response and a small square popped up in the corner of his HUD, displaying the roads and blue dots for the team. They were missing one. He frowned and patted a small compartment on his belt. The dog tags within rattled. Anderson would always be there one way or another.

"What's up boss?" called James, tilting his head towards him.

"Nothing. Keep moving, on me. James, cover us." The team slid into formation behind them.

John made quick time down the abandoned roads. It was disconcertingly similar to the remains of the surface cities on Earth. No one around, not even a bird. Just lots of sand. Something flickered on the edge of his vision.

"Contact!" he spun towards it with his rifle raised. Nothing. Not even the smallest ripple of cloaking technology. Nobody moved for a few seconds before he finally relaxed. Either the strain of battle was playing tricks on him or the enemy was stalking them. John shook his head and sighed, neither was an appealing option. "Move on, must have been the sand."

"As I said, even fuckin' ash is better," said James. He chuckled.

"Not funny," replied Kelly in a thin voice. John turned around and held up a hand, halting their advance. He eyed her critically. Kelly wasn't limping and the bleeding had stopped but her posture was all wrong. Off. She was in pain.

"You up for this, Chambers?"

"Damn right I am. We should be moving."

He gave her a long look and nodded, spinning around and sinking back into his usual stalk. The mission came first.

John leaned out around the corner and quickly ducked back in. The road was empty except for a few stray pieces of trash and an abandoned air car, still gleaming despite the incessant beating it was getting. The sun still managed to force a few feelers through the cloud and illuminate the street in an eerie yellow glow.

Something wasn't right. He tapped Williams on the shoulder and quickly relayed his message through finger speech. Cloak and get on the roof. Cover for us. She nodded sharply and faded away into the background. Another glance around the corner, still nothing. John shook his head and took a step out of cover. At the far end of the street he could see the wreckage.

"After me, stay sharp. They should at least have some scouts approaching. This isn't right," he said.

"Getting shot in the chest, slashed and walking into a trap," Chambers snorted. "Prime fucking day."

"Stay sharp, Kelly." John looked around quickly, his eyes never lingering. Something was watching them. A gust of wind sent an old plastic wrapper flying up into the air. Dust followed after it, mixing with the chorus of whines and howls as the wind slipped through open doors and into open pipes. He followed the piece of trash's trajectory with one eye. It stopped in mid-air, a few feet above the rooftop.

John's eyes widened and he leapt to the side. "Ambush!"

One of the asari uncloaked and tore the wrapper off her gun before bringing it up and taking a shot at him. Despite his quick reaction, it still slammed into his barriers and pushed him backwards. He fell into a roll and dodged into a building, slamming against a wall. A hail of fire erupted outside and he heard the crack of shields going down. "Take cover!"

"Yeah," replied James. A grunt over comms followed by a crash. "I'm across from you. Chamber is right behind me."

"How many?" Something exploded in a flare of blue light and slammed him deeper into the building. He flinched and cursed as a tingle of electricity coursed up his arm. "How many, Vega?!"

"Gimme a damn second," James paused. "I see three of the asari and fifteen birds. Asari on the roof and turians in all- dammit!" he cried out in pain and John leapt out of cover, pouring a magazine of ammo down the street. The fire abated for a second and James leapt back into cover, clutching his shoulder.

"You okay?" called John.

"Grazed me. M'fine."

"Williams, you there?" John tapped his ear and closed his eyes. If she died now, he wasn't sure if he could handle another loss in his team.

"I'm here. Circling the asari. Divert attention," came the terse reply.

"You hear her. We're leapfrogging forward. Engage asari, I'll focus the turians," he called. James took a deep breath, checked his ammo and leapt from the building. He had half a second to aim before a few rounds slammed into his shields. It was enough time to pop an enemy's shields. He ducked back into cover instantly and John sprinted forward. A few more rounds tried to punch through his shields and he sucked in a nervous breath. Red-zone.

He leapt into an alley a few seconds after they broke and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. His heart beat like a wild horse. A round clipped the corner and sent a chunk of cement smashing into the wall across from him. He glared at the offending hole and stood up. A spent magazine fell to the ground with a hiss and he slapped in another.

"We've moved up, Shepard. Chambers got hit, says armor wasn't pierced." James was breathing hard.

"They've got too much firepower, we can't fight them like this," snarled John. He slapped a hand against the wall and peeked around the corner again. A hail of fire exploded around him, one shard of rock scoring a long gash against his visor. He jerked back. The freaks were moving forward, edging out of cover and running to the next door while their friends kept him suppressed. He growled and clenched a hand around the X-69.

"Williams, move it!"

"Almost there. Will take one asari out, toss explosives on the turians. Then it's up to you."

John crouched a few inches away from the storm of steel and death. He could almost hear the crunch of turian boots on gravel. It looked like Williams was too slow, he'd be overrun by the turians before he could reach their target. Damn, dying wasn't part of the plan.

Then the ground shook and a rain of dirt flew past him, accompanied by bits and pieces of flesh. Screams erupted in the enemy ranks and John leapt out, his gun held aloft. "Go!" he yelled.

At least half the turians had been taken out. Their strange blood stained the dirt and a few rolled around, clutching at amputated limbs and screaming incoherently. He frowned and opened fire. His rounds tore into the shell-shocked enemy, mowing them down easily. Beside him, James' gun coughed, accompanied by the rattle of Kelly's SMG.

He slid forward quickly, weathering the occasional shot as it pinged off his shields. A turian leapt up and ran for cover, abandoning his companions to writhe in the dirt. John snarled and blasted his legs away with a long hail of bullets. The asari bitches had chosen a coward to be part of the ambush team? Maybe they weren't as good as everybody thought they were.

"Duck!" screamed Kelly.

On instinct, John leapt to the side and rolled. Something shot by his ear, hissing and sizzling. It hit the ground and suddenly John was airborne, floating aimlessly in the clutches of a whirlpool of blue energy. He twisted and flipped instantly, propelling himself away from the singularity with a powerful thrust of his hips. The ground was hard but blessedly solid when he hit it. He would never regret their hours of anti-biotic training from this day onward.

John got up and moved forward, scanning the rooftops. He could see Williams, outlined in red, but nothing else moved. James jogged up to him while Kelly hung back. She had slid her rifle off her shoulder and was scanning the rooftops from the cover of a building.

"Looks like the fuckers buggered off when we killed their turian friends," said James. He ejected a magazine and looked around, shaking his head. "Expected more than this from these commandos."

John leaned against a wall and checked the scratches on his armor, fingering the deep gouges and sighing. "They'll be back. You all doing good?"

"I'm fine. Coming down to join you," snapped Williams. John rubbed his hand together slowly, looking up at her unhappily. She was still angry with him. He'd have to deal with it eventually.

"We're doing good, John," said Chambers. She patted his shoulder and sidled past him. The crashed ship stood out in all the perfectly square habitations. Half of it was buried into a building and the other half smoked and gleamed in the dull light. She brought up her rifle and inspected it slowly. "I'm not seeing anybody."

"If he's smart, he hid. If not, the asari killed him," said Williams. She walked up to them and deactivated her cloak, rippling back into visibility.

"We'd better hurry and make sure then." John unclipped his gun and jogged forward.

The ship itself was beyond repair. Most of the painting had either melted or been torn off when it hit the ground. Long strips of steel stuck out at haphazard angles and made the whole thing look like a giant caltrop. Sparks leapt out of the cockpit and flames licked at the engine block like hungry insects.

But the cockpit was popped. "He has to be around here somewhere," said Kelly, sweeping her gun around them. They stood on the top of a nearby building, overlooking the crash site and the bodies a few hundred meters farther down.

John had taken the time to put a few more shots into the fallen commando's head. For Anderson. He ran a finger down the holster of his pistol and grinned. It had felt pretty good.

"This is Royal-6, does anybody copy?" John stiffened and looked around. Everybody else had crouched low, they had heard it.

Nothing moved in the surrounding, as deserted as ever except for a curious carrion bird. It circled high above the corpses, apparently unconcerned by the gales of sand that the wind sent towards it. Far away, an explosion erupted in a large warehouse, spraying a gout of fire high into the sky. The ground trembled and still, nothing moved.

Finally John lifted a finger to his comms. "This is Locust-A1, identify yourself."

"Downed pilot, code 6-455," came the breathless reply.

"Copy, prepare for extraction. Send your location."

"Shit!" something crashed and shattered in the background. "Sorry. Mobile, some asari thought it would be funny to chase me around the block."

"We're coming. Activate locator beacon."

"Umm… that means they can see me, you know that right?"

"Activate it. We're coming to extract you," replied John. He leapt off the building and hit the ground with a crunch. His muscles bulged and twisted, riding out the impact with ease. The rest of the team followed right after.

"You're the boss," said the pilot.

A red dot popped up on John's HUD. He started running. Buildings passed by in a blur as he made his way down the long road. Past empty windows and dark, gaping doors. A few more abandoned air cars and still, he couldn't seem to get to the pilot fast enough.

The asari were gaining on him, and fast. Joker, as he had learned the man was called, couldn't see them and couldn't outrun them.

John's legs pumped up and down, kicking up sand and dirt. He ground to a halt next to an alleyway, amidst a cloud of dust. "They're here."

Without another word, he darted into the alleyway, activating his cloak and fading into the background. He slowed to a walk. Everything and anything could be waiting for them, even now they didn't know the full capabilities of their foes.

Far ahead of him, he heard a muted cry. "Dammit!" He was too close to let their objective slip through their hands because of some damn aliens. Two enemy jets screamed above them, he glanced up in time to see a trail of explosive rounds shred one of them. It erupted into flames above them, raining fire down upon him. His cloak buzzed, crackled and disappeared.

"Shields out, Shepard. Fucking freaks, even when they're getting blown up they try to fuck us up," snarled James.

"No time for stealth then. Move in fast and hard."

* * *

"You can't evade us, human," cooed Lilia. Her voice echoed in the confined area like the haunting tones of a ghost. She had been stationed within the Ardat-Yakshi monastery for years, it reminded her of the pranks the girls would pull to try and scare their guards. She smiled and spun around a corner, her gun at the ready. Nothing but a hallway filled with paintings and a few family pictures.

"I have him, Lilia," said her companion.

"Excellent. I'm joining up with you now."

She cast a last glance at the pictures. A happy couple, turian and asari. They were smiling and waving at the omni-tool. These humans had shattered too many lives.

True to her word, her squad mate had the pilot. He was kneeling on in the middle of the alley, his hands behind his head with a gun pointed straight at it.

"At ease, Mori. We don't want him dead, yet."

She eyed him curiously, rubbing her chin. These humans were interesting. So similar to her people, yet so different. This one was encased in form-fitting black armor, with a mask covering his face and two long tubes going from back to mouth. Certainly some sort of pilot.

"These humans truly cultivate fear, don't they?" she murmured, shaking her head. Even their pilot suits were engineered to be intimidating.

"What are we to do with him? Bring him back to Yara?" Mori asked in a cold voice. Her hand squeezed the gun tightly, finger playing with the trigger like an eager child.

"No. Nothing about that in the mission parameters. He is an asset to the enemy, and should be removed."

The pilot shifted and turned towards her. "Done chit-chatting or are you going to bore me for a few more minutes?" he said, his voice distorted by his helmet.

Lilia snarled and sent a small biotic burst towards his head. A glancing blow at best. His head snapped to the side and a groan of pain escaped his lips. She snorted and looked away, weak.

"You know, asari," he said in a strained voice, "You should have deactivated my comm unit."

Lilia froze. Her heart stopped beating and a cold wash of shock flowed through her veins. "Mori!" she yelled.

"I'm sorry Lilia, I forgot!" Something big and black leapt out from an alley and smashed into the younger commando. Lilia reacted instantly. She brought up her barriers and un-holstered her hand canon, spinning to the side. A shot smashed into the wall behind her, shattering it. Three more enemies stepped out of the shadows, their guns drawn.

"Drop the weapon, asari. Or your friend is in for a bad time," snarled the lead one. She nearly opened fire when she saw his face. A mask with a screaming asari, incredibly realistic. Her body burned and she bared her teeth, a snarl crossing her lips. How dare he, how dare he!

"You can't hope to fight us, human," she hissed.

The big one rose. He had a thick armored arm around Mori's throat and a pistol point at brow. Mori cast her a desperate look, flailing uselessly against the bulk of her foe. Lilia gritted her teeth and shook her head. Mori should never have been captured, she had been trained better than this.

"I'm sorry," she looked away and gathered her power within her. Her biotic charge blew her past them, bowling over one of the humans. She nearly slammed into a wall, steadied herself and took off down an alley. Tears gathered in her eyes as she ran, her muscles screaming for her to return. But she had been trained well, when a mission failed, you cut the losses and fled. But somehow, that didn't make her feel any less like a piece of shit.

A sharp bang echoed behind her. "Your choice, asari!" yelled the human. "You're living on borrowed time."

They would pay for this.

* * *

_We've passed a few big milestones recently! First off, fifty-thousand words in this story. I have to say, I'm pretty proud of that!_

_A Dark Dawn is now on page two in amount of favorites! Not only that but we're in the top 20 stories for our amount of follows. That's amazing! Thanks to all those who have read, reviewed and followed since I posted this story. I hope you'll keep enjoying my chapters as much as I do. :)_

_As usual, thanks to Jade Tatsu for revising this chapter! (And the last one, in which I think I forgot to credit her. Sorry!)_

**KhazintheDark:** Ah, but we can't spill all the beans at once!

**I-Am-Silence:** Why thank you! :)

**darkerego:** Hmm, I don't think so. The enemy sniper would have shot him had she tried to save him or not. She was too slow.

**Blazercjj101:** Don't worry, I don't find Harem fics attractive either. Tali will come into the story in 3-4 chapters as a major character. (I'm not exactly sure for the chapter amount, could be a bit more.) But she will end up in the story and I believe that you will approve. :)

**Mojtaba13: **I encourage you to read more carefully in the future, you missed the reasons for this attack.

**Ghostprone52: **I try to update every 7-10 days.

_Now, I have an important notice for you all. I have created a Patreon page! For those unfamiliar with the concept, it is a place where you can donate money if you're feeling generous. Doing so will earn you certain benefits that you can learn about by following the link on my profile. :) (It also motivates me and helps me towards getting a laptop to write wherever I may be!)_

_**However**, I want everybody to know that this will not mean I don't value every reviewers opinion. It won't change anything in the way I write or the speed at which I post. (It might accelerate it though!)_

_So, if you feel generous, hop over to my profile and follow the link. Thanks a lot!_

_Sorry for the long A/N and until next time._


	14. Victory, not

**Chapter 14: Victory, not**

_A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed, followed and favorited! As usual, if you have any questions or concerns please PM me, or post a review. I'll try to answer as fast possible._

_Big thanks to **Jade Tatsu **for revising this chapter. Her help has been a real boon._

* * *

A fighter screamed overhead, shaking the building and sending piles of rubble tumbling down to the streets far below. Corporal Javier ducked down and narrowly avoided a chunk of splintered metal. It smashed into the floor and keeled over like a dead turtle, tumbling off his story.

Javier stood high above the other buildings in the sector, in apartment block 4B. Far below, turians and real soldiers traded fire. Flashes of light for the corporal. He turned his gaze towards the horizon and leaned against a pillar.

If any enemy shuttles tried to hit them, they would hit them now.

"Soldier Felps, anything to report?" he asked.

A burst of static answered his query. He stiffened and grabbed his gun, turning around towards the dark innards of the building. Soldiers always answered questions and comm units never broke down. Either they were being jammed or attacked. He'd heard of the Blue Bitches. Striking at small outposts and killing everyone inside. This would be bold of them, very bold.

"Felps, come in."

No answer. Javier muttered an oath and flipped up his night vision a few tiers. The hallways were nearly pitch-black, just light enough for their equipment to give them visibility. Humans were used to the dark. He'd only gone a few steps in when he felt something soft beneath his foot.

Javier leapt back, his heart beating right out of his chest. He licked his lips and knelt next to the corpse. Human. His suit was dead. The corporal touched a weak spot in the neck armor and felt for a pulse, none. He bowed his head a fraction and mouthed a quick prayer. For him and the dead man. The asari were already in the upper levels.

He took an unsteady breath and rose. Everything suddenly felt dangerous, every corner rife with sensor mines, shadows full of hidden assassins. If they were already here, then he was dead. It was just a question of how long his body could keep moving.

"Anybody, come in now!" he snapped.

"Rooftop survey. We got you," said a cool-voiced person.

Javier's shoulder sagged with relief. He wasn't alone. "Corporal Javier, 98th floor survey. Moving up to regroup. Asari in the building, shoot anything unidentified."

A long pause followed his statement and he grit his teeth. They couldn't have hit them already. Finally, "Yes sir," said the soldier in a low voice. "Awaiting your arrival."

"Gimme a force count," Javier ducked around a corner, his eyes scanning frantically for even the slightest disturbance in the air.

"Two Projects, two snipers and twenty of us grunts. Squad set up bunks here but the sergeant went down a few minutes ago."

"He isn't coming back. I'm nearly there," Javier could see the light streaming down from the access staircase. He broke into a run and jogged up it, his boots smashing noisily against the loosely fitted metal grating. A dozen gleaming gun barrels met him at the top, but the soldier visibly relaxed when they recognized him.

Javier glanced around quickly. A full moon shone bright on the expansive roof, gleaming off the Project's hulking shapes. Soldiers were setting up barricades around the entrance, using old ventilation units and any other gear they could lay hands on. A few sat propped up against some tubing, nursing bandages and missing limbs. Javier grimaced, maybe they could shoot from there.

One soldier broke away from directing two others with crates on their shoulders and jogged over to them. He saluted sharply and Javier returned it. They hadn't even begun fighting and he already felt bone-dead tired.

"Corporal."

"Private. You leading here?"

"Yes sir, until now. Senior operative of Iraki squad."

Javier glanced at his HUD. Private Iblees, damn, the soldier was old. Forty-two and still kicking. You didn't often see old people anymore, not with the life back on earth. It was a miracle he could still wield a gun.

"You're a lucky bitch, aren't you?" he said.

The soldier shrugged and relaxed. "Not the first to tell me that, sir."

"I bet. What's the situation here?"

A sniper cut them off. "Shuttles approaching! Counting a couple dozen. Seventy plus enemies!" exclaimed the sharpshooter in a cool and collected voice. The rooftop exploded into action. Soldiers ran for their grenade launchers while the Projects lumbered over to the ledge, pointing their massive 40mm cannons towards the pinpricks on the horizon.

"Someone guard the access ramp!" roared Iblees.

The sniper took his first shot with a deafening crack. Far away, sparks erupted on the side of a shuttle and it veered to the side before reestablishing its course. Another report, more sparks. This time they were quickly followed by flames, but even then the shuttle stayed aloft.

Nearby, the Projects joined the orchestra, opening with their big guns. The dull thuds soon accompanied the sharpshooters in an explosive symphony. Small flowers of light erupted around the intrepid shuttles, shaking more than a few. Then, jackpot. A Project shot slammed into the lead shuttle and the vehicle exploded into a spectacular ball of flame.

Javier glared at the one or two soldiers that raised their fists in triumph. Too young to understand that they were still doomed. Twenty-three humans, two projects against four dozen turians with air support and asari lurking below.

Another shot hit a shuttle and its motors blew, spraying the adjacent ships with shrapnel. The vessel spiralled out of control, disappearing into the city below. Javier hoped they had landed in human territory, none would make it out alive.

"Okay men, get ready!" yelled Iblees. The Projects large magazines dropped to the floor with a hiss, their ammo spent. With their characteristic thrum, the enemy shuttles slowed down and their doors slid open, revealing massive guns in some and groups of turians in others.

"No surrender, kill them all!" bellowed Javier. He'd survived for weeks now. He was luckier than most. But luck ran out for all of them someday.

* * *

Yara paced back and forth furiously. Her bare feet smacked against the cement floor, sending fleshy echoes throughout the nondescript room. Nothing but a small sleeping cot and a terminal hooked to the wall. She didn't need any commodities, they were for the weak.

With a sudden growl she spun around and stalked up to Lilia, her body glowing blue. "How many have they killed now, Leila? How many?"

"Five." She stared back at Yara coolly, never flinching away from the steely glare. "We lost three when one of their own units called in an airstrike on a building they still inhabited."

Yara took a deep breath and walked to the middle of the room. She sat down and crossed her legs, motioning Lilia over. The floor bit at her feet hungrily. Try as she might, the cold steel never warmed to the touch. It was better that way, comfort was unnecessary. "Lilia. Why do you think they have killed two of ours in action, while we have claimed only one?"

"Because..." Lilia glared at the floor and took a seat beside her commander. "Because we did not expect them to be this talented."

"Correct." Yara ran a hand over her face, pausing over a long faded scar on her cheekbone. Somehow, she doubted that this campaign would leave her unmarked. "We saw this as a training exercise. A way for our newest members to test their mettle against a potential threat. But despite their lack of biotics, and age, they are ruthless and intelligent." Yara pulled at her powers and enveloped her hand in blue power, letting it flow against her skin with the usual tingle. "There must be no more playing around. I have let too many of our team members die, I will lead the next strike against them."

"Yara, are you sure?" asked Lilia. She reached out and clutched Yara's glowing hand with her own, looking up at her with large eyes. Yara stretched out a hand and wiped at the dry tear-stains on her cheek, nodding. It had to be her, she couldn't just send more of her girls out there to be killed. For too long had they fought against predictable foes. Batarian pirates, krogan mercenaries, they all fought the same way. Nothing had changed for so long in this galaxy that no one was prepared for a whole new book of war.

"Lilia, you shouldn't worry. We will emerge victorious from this conflict. It is only a matter of time."

"I do not worry about victory, Yara."

"You needn't worry about my safety either. I- We shall live through this. For we are the superior force." They would, these humans would die by the dozen for every asari death on this goddess forsaken ball of sand.

* * *

She looked so peaceful, the worried creases on her face eased by the gentle balm of sleep. Her fiery red hair splayed out around her head in a halo. Thin strands ran around her pale skin, trailing along it lightly. He lifted a hand from her bedside to trail down the side of her face, down one of the dark stains. It helped him remember why they were here. Revenge for those who died, for what the Citadel inflicted upon humanity.

"But what happens after that?" he muttered, bowing his head and looking at his lap.

Kelly shifted in her bed and groaned, touching at the thick wad of bandages running around her chest, binding it tightly. John shot out a hand to hold onto hers. He guided it to her side, a small smile on his face.

"Hey there, easy."

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times before focusing on him. "J-John? What happened?"

"You took a pretty bad beating, your body just took a few hours to realize that. We're back at the outpost, medbay."

She nodded and fell back against the thin cushion. Her chest rose with short, sharp breaths and she grimaced each time. John opened his mouth, and quickly snapped it shut. Kelly was a RIG, she could deal with the pain, to assume anything less would be insulting. Still... He pulled a face and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"How're you feeling?"

"I'll manage, John. Shouldn't you be out doing something?"

"I made some time," he glanced to the side, rubbing a hand against his cheek. "I mean, our team is smaller than before. Need to make sure we're all ready to fight." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. Her cheeks were red.

"Well, thanks. I'm fine you know."

"I know but... I wanted to make sure," he sighed and took her smaller hand back into his, inspecting it gently. Small scars littered the fingers and palm, she must have struggled with the knife-handling part of their training. Every RIG had traces from those brutal hours. "It's just... James is a good guy but he's a soldier, keeps it professional mostly. Ashley, I mean, Williams." He ran a hand through his short hair and shook his head. "I don't know what to think. She's changed. You're a friend."

"Thanks," whispered Kelly. She didn't pull back from his grip, hopefully that was a good sign. "I know what you mean. It's... nice to have someone to talk too."

He looked up into her eyes and nodded. He really didn't know that much about her in the end, apart from the occasional story. James spoke a lot and always had a tale to tell while he'd known Williams for a while. But Kelly, she never spoke much in the first place. "Which Bunker do you come from?" He bit his cheek. "If you don't mind telling me."

She smiled at him, her nearly grey lips parting to reveal clean teeth. He'd never seen her smile like that before. "I'm from Cold 1, in Old Alaska."

"Really?" his eyes widened. "No shit?"

"Nope. My parents worked in the generators powering the North America bunkers," she said, leaning her head back and looking up at the slate grey roof. Say what you may about the turians, they had about as much taste for architecture as the general human populace. The medbay was a dingy room and the rest of the outpost fared no better.

"I thought they couldn't even have kids anymore in Cold Bunkers." Her face fell and her hand tightened into a fist beneath his grip. He grimaced, maybe he'd gone too far. "Sorry, not my business."

"No, no it's fine," she sighed explosively, her free hand flying to her chest. "Dammit!" she rubbed it slowly then resumed. "Cold Bunkers only take personnel, no kids. But my parents didn't like that idea. Confined to life in a maintenance pit? Not exactly what they had planned."

Not like anyone could plan for a life back on Earth, thought John. Kelly glanced towards him and he knew she was thinking the same thing. The only future was in the army, a very uncertain future at that. "Anyway, they had me. Authorities weren't dumb. They found me living in the ducts and shafts when I was ten. My parents had a choice between my termination and a care house in Bunker Five, west coast of Old Europe. Then, I just drifted into the army, and RIG."

"Straightaway, huh?" asked John. He patted her hand and leaned back. His palm felt cold without the comforting weight and warmth. He closed it into a fist, somehow it wasn't the same thing.

"Yeah, I didn't have anywhere to go."

"Yeah..."

The conversation faded into an awkward silence and John shuffled his feet, sliding a hand into his utility pants pocket. He'd told himself to ask Kelly to go do something when they got back to Earth. But now there wasn't any certainty of making it back. If Anderson could die, so could he. It was now or never.

"Kelly, I was wondering, um..."

"What's up, John?" she leaned up on her elbows and frowned, her brow creasing cutely into an expression of concern.

"Well, when we get back to Earth. I know a few spots on the surface that still have grass and trees. I could show them to you if you want." Heat rushed to his cheeks and he quickly averted his gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets. What the hell? He was a RIG, he didn't feel apprehension like this!

"John, sure. I'd love that," said Kelly in a small voice. He looked up at her, a smile crossing his face. She was blushing again and nodding quickly.

Suddenly, he laughed and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Here we are, RIG's and we're blushing like kids."

"Hey you're the one who started all this shit!" huffed Kelly, flopping back down onto the bed, her cheeks flushed crimson.

They spoke late into the night, a moment of peace in a whirlpool of violence and death. Memories of home and places to see. For once, John could forget all the dead, his sister, Anderson, even the turians. He felt good.

* * *

Another ship exploded, a brief flash of light as hundreds of lives were abruptly extinguished. Garrus Vakarian flinched and slid a dot over his holomap, relocating a fighter squadron. Morag space was a war zone, filled with ever expanding debris fields and hulking war vessels.

His ship shuddered beneath his feet and he reasserted his grip on the CIC railing, leaning over the map again. "Captain of the Veracity, your fighter squadrons are being overrun, pull back into the screen of the Primarch's Will."

"Understood, Fleet Commander."

Garrus' mandibles spread into a grimace. That was his position since the first group had been wiped out and the third group's command ship destroyed. Despite their small numbers and weak armor, the human ships were incredibly fast and powerful. The difficulty was not in breaching armor but hitting them in the first place.

Two dots flickered off the command board, confirmed kills from the Primarch's Will. He grinned, the humans could throw all they wanted at them. It wouldn't stop them, not now. The Rammer's lighting flickered and he glanced back towards his aid.

"Report."

The turian shrugged and brandished a datapad. "Estimate of thirty-seven percent of the enemy fleet destroyed, have lost fifty-percent, mostly the first assault group and third. We still have numerical superiority and the odds are in our favor."

"Aren't they always?" asked Vakarian. He slid up a direct feed from his hull camera. All around the Rammer, the second group had created a nearly impenetrable barrier of steel and gunfire. Only the occasional flicker betrayed the enemy visually, and even on scanners, they were oft little more than blips on the radar.

A turian in the communication deck looked up at him. "Sir! The Veracity is taking fire from an invisible enemy! No scanner reads!"

"Intensify search! Break off fighter squadrons Red and Vengeance to search visually!" snapped Garrus. His own gaze wandered across the screen, straining for even the smallest of flashed. The Veracity's hull glimmered and shone in the light of Morag's sun. Only the occasional flash of shields betrayed its dire position. Garrus clenched his hand into a fist and growled. Invisible enemies, just what he needed.

"Nothing, sir! Fighters aren't reporting any visuals in the shooting vector."

Garrus stood straight and scratched a mandible with his claw. His fleets crushed the humans as they spoke, the single greatest threat now was the presence of these invisible enemies. Only close range photon detectors would locate them at this rate. A rare technology, only installed on the Rammer. He took a deep breath, today he redeemed his name or forever lived in infamy.

"Pilot, bring the Rammer through the unscanned enemies firing vector. Photon detectors powered up. Comm's, tell the fleet to hold position and current objectives. We're helping the Veracity and crushing this new foe."

A few turians turned to look at him, pausing in their duties. He stared them all down until they looked away. This was his duty as fleet commander, victory at any cost. His beloved ship vibrated beneath him as the massive engines kicked into gear and blasted them out of the formation and towards the invisible aggressor.

The GARDIAN lasers and turrets fired in repetitive patterns across space, trying to blind-fire the enemy into revealing himself. It was like trying to shoot through a needle with a Widow Maker, but you never knew. Garrus took a step back from the railing and rubbed his fringe slowly. This was it.

"Sir, in ran-"

"Get the photon detectors up and running!" he yelled over the buzz of voices.

"Sir! Taking fire from three sides, shields dropping to 85 percent!" snapped a clinical-voiced female.

The holoscreen before him displayed the detectors progress. Nothing yet, they had to hold for just a few more minutes. A sudden flash in an ocean of darkness, a yell and Garrus hit the deck with something heavy covering his body. The ship shook and red lights blinked on all around him while cries echoed through the CIC. He coughed and shoved the dead weight off him.

A lieutenant, dead. A piece of metal stuck out of his back, impaling his spine and burying itself deep into his abdomen. Garrus cursed and heaved himself up. His leg felt wrong, sharp daggers of pain scurried up it like a wave of boiling water. "Status report!" he snarled through grit teeth.

"We took a nuclear blast to the left flank." an officer ran up to him, leaking blood from a deep scratch on his head. Pale flesh shone through deep cracks in the turians dull brown plating. He held his head and read off a datapad. "Shields down to thirty percent, radiation damage wiped out a section of guardian lasers. Casualties still counting!" He promptly fell to the ground, unconscious.

Garrus waved over a passing medic and turned back to his command center, his talons flying over the controls. They needed to find these vessels, and find them fast. Another blast like that and they wouldn't be able to do anything but act as target practice for the enemy.

"Sir, photon detector is picking up a faint blip!"

Garrus slammed his talons onto the railing. "Focus everything! I want a spread of fire covering that whole sector."

With a nod, the turian turned away. A second later, the ship shook as the main gun fired, sending a deadly projectile ripping through space. He watched, his talons gouging into the railing before him. Then, something flashed in the distance and a blossom of quickly extinguished flame filled his camera sights.

A ragged cheer ran through the CIC and Garrus grinned. Payback was a bitch, wasn't it? "How does it feel now, alien? No cloaking to hide behind," he whispered. Memories of Fera flashed through his mind, there would be no mercy for these killers.

The Rammer smashed through the expanding debris of an enemy frigate and flew onwards. Even now, the remaining stealthed foes popped up on the photon detector's scanners, and the dreadnought did quick work of those that didn't break away.

Behind it, hundreds of lives vanished in flashes of superheated gas and metal as one after the other, the human vessels exploded or disappeared, fading away from the fight to hide in the nearby asteroid fields.

Garrus smacked his XO's shoulder and grinned, his mandibles spreading wide. "Victory."

"Victory."

His comm unit crackled. "Willing Retribution, we're being hit by stealthed long range ships!"

Garrus' face fell as fast as his good mood. Plummeting down into a dark abyss. The Rammer was the only ship with the specialized detection system.

* * *

**Destructo Wolf: **You'll have to find out as the story progresses! Not going to spoil things like that now. *wink*

**Ghostprone52: **Mori wasn't an ardat-yakshi.

**Tomovnikov: **Just want to insist on this. I made the Patreon page in the event that some people are generous enough to help me out a bit. However, I will in no way hold this story hostage or anything like that.

**Perfect Carnage: **True, but I prefer it that way. Might not be cannon, but I'm the one writing this story!

_I'll try to post the next chapter in about ten days. Exams are coming up and will eat up some of my time. (And 3.0 on Swtor). If you feel like helping me out, you can go check out my Patreon page by following the link on my profile._

_See you next time._


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